(_ 


UHI*. 


109 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPI. 

A    TALE   OF  THE  EARLY  CHRISTIANS. 

(REVISED  EDITION.) 


BY  FANNIE  E.  NEWBERRY. 


David  C.  Cook  Publishing  Company,  Elgin,  111.,  and  36  Washington  St.,  Chicago. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  LOST  AMULET. 

WHY,  what  is  this?" 
The    speaker    dropped    the    heavy 
door-curtain    he     had    just    drawn 
aside,   and  strode  rapidly  across  the  stone 
floor  to  a  figure  at  the  further  end— a  girlish 
figure  resting  on  a  divan,  and  doubled  up 
with  weeping. 

She  did  not  answer  instantly,  and  the 
young  man  stood  beside  her  looking  down 
with  a  helpless  patience  tor  a  moment,  as  if 
uncertain  what  to  do  or  say.  Presently  he 
spoke  again: 

"  Has  anything  happened,  Salome?" 

"  Happened?  How  can  you  ask?"  the 
other  managed  to  sob  out  in  a  voice  of  al- 
most petulant  reproach. 

"  I  mean  anything  new,"  he  hastened  to 
explain  with  an  air  of  meekness.  "  Of 
course—" 

"  Of  course  you  cannot  or  will  not  under- 
stand, Hector.  You  never  do.  Is  a  grief  the 
less  keen  because  it  grows  older  daily?  Can 
I  ever  get  used  to  this?" 

"  We  do  get  used  to  things,"  he  returned 
slowly,  gazing  down  at  her  from  his  superior 
height,  as  a  good-natured  but  lumbering 
camel  might  gaze  upon  a  fawn.  "  We  have 
to  control  our  grief  or  it  would  kill  us,  you 
see.  Come,  try  and  stop,  can  you  not?  It  is 
time  for  the  evening  meal,  and  I  am 
hungry." 

"  Hungry!  Men  are  always  thinking  of 
their  comforts.  Have  you  not  one  thought 
for  our  poor  lost  Herklas,  wandering  no  one 
knows  how,  or  whither?" 

The  man's  face  twitched  with  some  in- 
ternal emotion,  but,  absorbed  in  her  own 
luxurious  sorrow,  Salome  did  not  see  it. 
After  a  moment  he  said  gently: 


"  But  is  there  anything  new,  dear?  I  left 
you  quite  bright,  this  morning.  What  have 
you  heard?" 

"  Nothing.  But  I  know  now  all  is  over. 
Herklas  will  never  return."  Then  rising  and 
facing  him,  with  her  dark  eyes  awed  to 
steadiness,  she  whispered  solemnly.  "  Hec- 
tor, I  have  lost  my  amulet!  The  gods  have 
given  me  over  to  the  fates,  and  sorrow  is  to 
be  my  portion." 

"Bah!"  cried  the  brother,  throwing  back 
his  broad  shoulders  and  letting  out  a  merry 
laugh  from  his  splendid  chest.  "  Is  that  all? 
I  was  sure  you  had  news  that  Herklas  was 
in  prison  at  least,  if  not  sent  to  the  galleys— 
or  even  dead  by  torture."  He  shuddered  a 
little.  "  And  it  is  only  your  amulet?" 

"Only!"  Her  red  lips  curled  angrily,  and 
she  began  gathering  up  her  fair  tresses  and 
thrusting  them  into  their  silken  fillet  with  a 
petulant  gesture.  "Is  not  that  enough? 
What  is  to  keep  me  from  evil  and  misfor- 
tune now?" 

"  Well,  sister,  perhaps  I  can  help  a  little!" 
stretching  out  his  long,  massive  arms,  quite 
bare  of  covering,  and  bringing  them  back  to 
an  angle  that  made  the  muscles  stand  up 
like  hillocks.  "  I  think,  possibly,  I  may  have 
a  word  to  say,  or  a  move  to  make,  provided 
misfortune  comes  in  a  visible  form,  eh?" 

His  persistent  good-humor  overcame  her  at 
last,  and  her  pretty  teeth  gleamed  in  an  irre- 
pressible smile  as  she  cried  archly: 

"  Boaster!  Do  you  think  yourself  even  a 
match  for  the  gods,  then,  because  you  have 
twice  worn  the  Olympian  crown?  But  in- 
deed, dear  Hector,  it  is  a  serious  loss.  It 
was  of  purest  silver  from  the  Cordovan 
mines,  wrought  by  a  silversmith  of  Ephesus, 
and  delicately  chased  with  one  of  the  most 
favorable  signs  of  the  zodiac.  Then  it  held  a 
bit  of  the  hair  from  a  sacred  white  bull,  and 
had  been  blessed  by  a  Vestal.  Think  of  its 


Copyright,  1896  und  1897,  by  David  C.  Cook  Publishing  Company. 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


value,  brother.  Why,  such  an  amulet  is 
priceless!" 

"  But  where  did  you  lose  it,  child?" 

"What  a  question!"  laughing  merrily  now. 
"  If  I  knew  that,  would  I  be  crying  here?  It 
was  hanging  from  a  cord  of  silver  wire 
about  my  neck  but  a  day  or  two  ago,  and 
now  it  is  gone — that  is  all  I  can  tell  you." 

"  Have  you  looked  for  it?" 

"  Yes,  everywhere." 

"  Well,  well!  crying  will  not  bring  it  back, 
and  the  gods  hate  tears.  Besides,  I  am  so 
hungry,  Salome!" 

He  spoke  in  pleading  tones,  like  a  school- 
boy, for  he  knew  this  would  conquer  her; 
and  it  did. 

"  Very  well,"  she  said  promptly,  "  light  the 
brazier  then,  and  I  will  steep  you  a  cup  from 
the  chocolate  beans  you  brought  home  yes- 
terday. Then  there  are  dates,  oatcake,  and 
fish.  Will  these  serve  you?" 

"  Excellently  well,  sister;  only  make 
haste." 

And  quite  restored  to  good-humor  now, 
Salome  skipped  away  on  light  feet  to  bestir 
her  one  little  slave,  Persis,  to  these  pleasant 
household  tasks. 

Left  alone.  Hector  threw  himself  on  the 
divan  of  sail-cloth,  made  in  imitation  of  the 
rich  couches  draped  in  silk  and  gold  stuffs 
much  affected  in  the  houses  of  the  Roman 
nobles,  and  was  soon  in  sad  reflection,  which 
plowed  a  deep  line  between  his  wide-set 
blue  eyes.  Because  he  was  a  Wrestler,  and 
therefore  used  to  sights  of  blood  and  suffer- 
ing in  the  arena,  did  not  seem,  so  far,  to 
make  his  heart  less  tender  to  his  own;  and 
presently,  as  memory  after  memory  of  his 
lost  brother,  Herklas,  rose  before  him,  long 
sighs  shook  his  close-knit  figure^from  head 
to  foot. 

Herklas  had  been  such  a  beautiful  boy, 
and  only  six  months  in  the  toga  virilis. 
which  marked  the  Roman  youth's  coming 
into  man's  estate  at  fifteen.  To  be  sure,  he 
had  never  taken  to  the  Olympic  games,  as 
had  Hector,  and  had  shrunk  visibly  from 
the  often  frightful  spectacles  which  had 
been  introduced  into  them  since  the  Romans 
ruled;  but  he  was  no  coward— he  had  proved 
that  often  enough  in  many  an  adventure  of 
boyish  daring  and  skill.  It  was  only  his  in- 
stinctive good-heartedness  that  shrank  from 
blows  and  bloodshed,  not  because  he  himself 
feared  their  hurt. 

Then  where  could  such  a  form  be  found  in 
these  degenerate  days,  outside  the  statues  of 
the  masters?  Hector  recalled  him  as  he  had 


lain  at  meat,  the  last  morning  he  was  with 
them.  He  had  been  full  of  his  fun  and  non- 
sense, selecting  choice  bits  from  the  platter 
for  Salome,  and  laughing  gayly  as  she 
eagerly  received  them.  He  had  never  been 
selfish,  never  sullen  nor  severe — this  well- 
loved  brother.  But  there  had  been  times 
when  his  whole  nature  seemed  to  revolt 
against  the  license  and  wickedness  of  the 
age,  and  he  had  dared  sometimes  even  to 
criticise  the  gods,  and  wonder  at  the 
tyranny  of  emperor,  praetors,  and  priests. 
Could  spies  have  listened  and  reported  these 
words,  and  was  he  in  durance  because  of 
them?  Certainly  thei'e  could  be  no  truth  in 
the  suspicion  of  his  master's  that  he  had 
been  led  away  by  the  obscure  and  singular 
sect  they  called  Christians! 

Hector  turned  himself  nervously  about, 
the  old  couch  creaking  beneath  his  tall, 
sinewy  frame,  and  just  then  Salome's  wel- 
come face  appeared,  as  she  drew  aside  an 
inner  curtain  and  announced  supper.  He 
rose  with  a  quick  motion,  as  if  thrusting 
sad  thoughts  far  from  him,  and  strode  into 
the  next  room,  where  a  modest  board  was 
laid  in  the  shape  of  a  crescent,  with  a  broad 
divan  surrounding  it,  except  at  the  opening, 
which  gave  room  for  the  servant  to  enter 
and  pass  the  dishes  inside  the  half  circle. 
The  brother  and  sister  always  ate  together, 
for  Hector  loved  and  tenderly  cherished  his 
one  female  relative,  who  had  indeed  been 
half  spoiled  by  her  doting  brothers. 

By  mutual  consent  the  subject  of  the 
brother  now  gone  for  over  a  fortnight,  was 
not  resumed  at  first,  nor  that  of  the  lost 
amulet.  Instead,  Hector  told  of  a  new  throw 
he  had  been  practicing  at  the  gymnasium, 
and  Salome  grew  cheerful  chatting  over  a 
call  from  an  old  playmate  not  before  seen 
for  many  moons.  She  had  sketched  in  detail 
her  looks,  her  dress,  and  all  she  said,  when 
she  suddenly  broke  off  to  cry: 

"  There!  I  know  I  had  that  amulet  on  when 
she  came,  for  I  saw  it  gleam  on  my  neck  as 
I  glanced  in  the  bit  of  steel  mirror  set  into 
the  wall  of  our  vestibule  when  I  hastened  to 
admit  her.  Let  me  see!" 

She  buried  her  dimpled  chin  in  her  hand 
and  thought  a  minute,  then  sprang  to  her 
feet.  "I  believe  I  have  it!  I  followed  dear 
Theta  across  the  court  to  the  very  street  en- 
trance and  peeped  out  through  the  wall  gate, 
as  we  said  farewell.  Then  I  saw  an  escort 
of  soldiers,  with  some  of  those  gay  courtiers 
from  the  Castle,  coming  close,  and  knew  it 
was  best  not  to  let  them  see  me,  as  I  was 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPL 


unveiled,  so  I  hastily  shut  the  gate.  And 
now  I  remember  that  I  caught  the  silken 
tassel  of  my  fillet  in  the  latch,  and  had  to 
jerk  it  away— perhaps  it  was  then  I  dropped 
my  charm.  Come,  Hector,  if  you  have  fin- 
ished your  supper  let  us  go  and  see." 

He  rose  good-naturedly.  "  If  it  fell  outside 
It  has  been  picked  up  long  before  this,"  he 
said,  chewing  complacently  on  his  last  date. 


away  the  food,   satisfying  her  own  hunger 
with  large  mouthfuls  as  she  did  so. 

Salome  reached  the  wall  door  first,  and 
shuffled  her  sandals  with  gay  impatience  on 
the  smooth  paving  stones,  as  she  awaited 
her  brother's  leisurely  approach.  Their  lit- 
tle home  was  situated  on  one  of  the  more 
quiet  streets  of  Philippi,  and  this  was  un- 
lighted,  except  by  a  pale  thread  of  a  moon, 


Instantly  Hector  was  upon  them,  and  his  arena  training  stood  him  in  good  stead.— See  page  4. 


"  Yes,  but  it  may  be  inside,  you  see,  or 
caught  in  a  cleft  of  the  wall,  or  brushed  into 
a  corner.  Bring  a  lantern,  Persis,  and  let  us 
try.  If  I  can  find  it  again  I  shall  take  it  for 
a  good  omen." 

The  small  iron  censer,  flat  in  shape  and 
swung  from  three  chains,  was  brought  and 
lighted,  Salome  caught  up  a  chlamys,  or  long 
wrap,  tossed  it  picturesquely  over  her  head, 
winding  it  about  her  chin  and  lips  so  that 
only  the  brow  and  eyes  were  visible,  then 
crying  impatiently,  "  Come!"  started  out 
first,  Hector  striding  more  slowly  after, 
while  Persis  contented  herself  with  clearing 


low  in  the  western  sky.  With  the  deliberate 
movements  peculiar  to  him  Hector  inserted 
a  clumsy  key  into  the  lock  of  the  small  por- 
tal, turned  it,  and  let  one  wooden  leaf  fall 
inward  upon  its  hinges.  Then  the  two  passed 
through  the  aperture,  and,  lifting  high  the 
lantern,  began  a  search  for  the  amulet,  so 
precious  to  this  heathen  girl. 

Both  bent  low,  Hector  fairly  on  his  knees, 
searching  the  crevices  of  the  stone  pave- 
ment, and  Salome,  doubled  under  the  long 
folds  of  her  drapery,  peering  along  the  clear- 
running  ditch  of  snow-water,  brought  from 
the  mountains,  which  separated  the  side- 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIP  PL 


walk  from  the  highway.  They  knew  how 
unsafe  were  the  streets  at  night  in  these 
lawless  times,  when  the  dissolute  young 
officers  from  the  Castle  sometimes  chose  to 
steal  out,  disguised  and  masked,  in  search  of 
adventure,  to  say  nothing  of  thieves  and 
rioters  of  lesser  rank,  who  dared  the  galleys 
and  terrible  dungeons  to  ply  their  vocation. 

But  what  could  happen  so  near  home?  A 
step  would  place  them  behind  the  wall  and 
locked  door  of  their  own  little  castle,  which 
no  one  would  dare  to  invade.  So  they  con- 
tinued to  look  about,  oblivious  of  everything 
but  their  own  exclamations  and  remarks, 
with  which  each  spurred  on  the  search. 

Thus  they  failed  to  notice  an  outburst  of 
song  and  laughter  on  a  side  street  close  by, 
or,  perhaps,  did  not  think  it  worth  minding, 
and  both  were  startled  when  suddenly  at 
their  very  elbows  appeared  a  tumultuous  lit- 
tle crowd  of  well-muffled  men,  one  or  two 
bearing  lanterns,  and  the  rest  reeling  about 
with  noisy  talk  and  laughter. 

"Quick!"  cried  Hector.  "Run,  Salome, 
run!" 

But  already  the  rioters  had  caught  sight 
of  the  slender,  white-draped  figure,  and  with 
a  loud  laugh  one  tall  young  fellow  leaped 
into  the  open  gateway,  barring  her  passage, 
while  two  more  sprang  to  her  sides,  inter- 
cepting her  movements. 

Instantly  Hector  was  upon  them,  and  his 
arena  training  stood  him  in  good  stead  now. 
At  every  swing  of  his  powerful  arms  some 
one  fell  back  with  a  howl  of  pain,  and  al- 
most while  one  could  tell  it  the  whole  party 
had  dispersed,  hastened  thereto  by  the  cry 
of  one  of  the  lantern-bearers: 

"The  bucket-men!    The  bucket-men!" 

Breathing  heavily,  Hector  looked  about 
him.  The  crowd  had  melted  like  the  dew, 
and  Salome  too  was  gone,  having  doubtless 
fled  to  the  innermost  recesses  of  the  house. 

Hector  had  no  desire  to  be  interviewed  by 
the  troublesome  lictors,  whom  the  populace 
called  "  men  of  the  bucket "  because  they 
acted  as  a  fire-patrol  with  tarred  buckets  of 
water  in  hand,  as  well  as  guardians  of  the 
streets.  So  he  took  advice  of  caution  an.l, 
slipping  quickly  inside,  locked  his  gate 
securely  and  hurried  indoors,  chuckling  to 
think  how  surprised  those  young  brawlers 
must  have  been  to  feel  the  weight  of  fists 
as  hard  as  iron,  and  as  heavy  as  a  sledge- 
hammer. 

The  house  was  dark  and  still.  As  he 
stepped  within  from  the  moonlit  court  it 
struck  a  chill  to  his  senses. 


"  Salome!"   he  called  softly.    "  Salome!" 
A  frightened  exclamation  answered   him, 
and  the  little  slave  girl,  her  eyes  big  with 
terror,  confronted  him. 
"Oh!"  she  cried,  "where  is  my  mistress?" 
"  But    do    you    not    know?"    he    returned 
quickly.    "  She  is  here,  of  course — she  must 
be.    She  is  hidden  somewhere,  too  scared  to 
speak.    Salome,     dear!    I     am     here.    Your 
brother    protects     you.      Oh,     Salome,     for 
Vesta's  sake  answer!" 

But  only  the  bare  walls  echoed  his  despair- 
ing cry.  He  ran  to  and  fro,  calling,  search- 
ing, beseeching,  groaning,  cursing.  He  sent 
the  little  slave  hither  and  yon,  fierce  as  he 
had  never  been  with  her  before,  in  his  terri- 
ble anxiety.  He  ran  to  the  roof,  gazing  out 
over  the  now  silent  street  with  great  gasp- 
ing breaths  of  despair.  He  sought  in  im- 
possible nooks  and  crannies  below,  the  tears 
gushing  unashamed  from  his  manly  eyes, 
and  then  with  a  roar  of  rage  and  despera- 
tion, like  a  lion  rushing  upon  its  tormentors, 
he  dashed  out  into  the  street,  calling  on  tht 
lictors  for  vengeance,  utterly  bereft  of 
sense  or  caution. 

Poor  little  Persis,  frightened  nearly  out  of 
her  small  wits,  followed  swiftly  to  the  gate, 
and  shook  her  head  in  perplexity  as  she 
slowly  clanged  it  to  behind  him.  Then 
throwing  herself  down  in  a  dark  corner  of 
the  wall,  she  crouched  in  a  small  heap,  mo- 
tionless with  terror,  and  softly  cried  herself 
to  sleep. 


CHAPTER  II. 

IN  AN  UPPER  CHAMBER. 

DURING  this  turbulent  scene,  so  com- 
mon in  all  pagan  cities  as  to  cause  no 
more  than  a  passing  thought  to  those 
who,  safely  locked  within  their  own  home 
walls,  gladly  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  the  brawLs 
and  crimes  without,  there  was  another  scene 
taking  place,  as  unlike  this  as  the  still  lake 
of  the  mountains  is  unlike  the  sea  in  the 
fury  of  a  storm.  In  a  small  room  dimly 
lighted  by  flaring  pine-knots,  was  gathered  a 
little  company,  possibly  twenty  in  number, 
who  were  noticeable  only  for  their  quiet 
manners,  plain  dress,  and  serene  and  lofty 
expression. 

They  were  of  all  ages  above  young  child- 
hood, and  they  entered  by  twos  and  threes, 
stealing  noiselessly  to  the  barred  outer  door, 
there  to  give  a  peculiar  knock  which  quickly 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


gained  them  entrance.  A  password  was 
spoken  in  a  whisper,  that  most  common 
being  the  Greek  word  "  Ikthus,"  signifying 
"  fish."  This,  universally  given  as  the  sign 
of  the  faith  among  believers,  had  a  signifi- 
cance dear  to  them  all,  for  its  initials,  taken 
in  order,  stood  for  "  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  ot 
God,  the  Savior."  It  immediately  admitted 
them,  this  night,  and  once  inside,  a  spirit  of 
delightful  cordiality  and  brotherhood  seemed 
to  prevail. 

They  clasped  hands  like  friends  who  meet 
after  perils  passed,  and  the  gentle  words, 
"  Peace  be  with  you!"  seemed  a  favorite 
greeting.  There*  was  little  laughter,  or  loud 
merriment,  but  smiles,  serenity,  and  peace, 
seemed  to  pervade  the  whole  assembly. 
For,  strangely  enough,  here  the  patrician, 
the  freedman  and  the  slave  met  upon  terms 
of  seeming  equality,  and  addressed  each 
other  as  "  brother  "  and  "  sister."  All  this, 
too,  in  a  haughty  Macedonian  city  that,  in 
imitation  of  great  Rome,  of  which  it  was  a 
colony,  disdained  the  rest  of  the  world  as 
conquered  slaves,  drawing  the  lines  of  rank 
so  sharply  that  men  had  been  thrown  into 
dungeons— yes,  even  executed— for  daring  to 
presume  upon  certain  privileges  at  banquet 
or  in  council  chamber,  in  a  simple  matter  of 
food,  dress,  or  ornament,  arrogated  by  those 
of  higher  rank. 

The  meeting  was  well  under  way,  a  hymn 
had  been  sung  and  a  prayer  offered,  such  as 
had  never  ascended  to  a  heathen  deity,  when 
once  more  came  the  peculiar  knock,  this 
time  louder,  more  imperative  and  startling 
tnan  was  customary. 

The  outer  door  having  been  opened,  there 
was  an  unusual  commotion  in  the  small 
square  vestibule,  which  caused  the  Pres- 
byter, or  leader,  just  beginning  to  address 
the  assembly,  to  cease  speaking  and  look  in- 
tently that  way.  Every  one's  eyes  followed 
his.  In  each  face  was  expectation  and  some- 
thing of  anxiety,  but  neither  fear  nor  cring- 
ing. They  knew  this  might  mean  arrest, 
imprisonment,  possibly  death,  for  each  and 
all,  but  they  faced  it  steadily,  as  those  who 
rest  upon  a  Power  stronger  than  their  own. 

The  door  opened  wide  and  two  women  and 
a  man  entered,  half  leading,  half  carrying, 
the  figure  of  another  female,  well  muffled  in 
white  and  apparently  unconscious. 

"  Forgive  our  untimely  interruption,  breth- 
ren." said  the  man  in  deprecating  tones, 
"  but  we  found  this  woman  lying  in  the  deep 
angle  of  the  dooinvay,  and  she  seems  badly 
hurt,  or  very  ill.  We  cannot  make  her  an- 


swer, so  far,  and  she  appears  dazed  and 
sick." 

"  Let  the  women  care  for  her,"  said  the 
Presbyter  in  tones  that  were  instinctively 
commanding,  though  not  with  arrogance. 

At  once  the  women  gathered  about  the 
figure,  which  had  been  laid  on  a  divan,  and 
putting  back  her  chlamys,  one  said: 

"  Ah,  but  she  is  a  girl  only,  and  so  fair!" 

"  Yes.  and  by  her  dress  a  modest  one,"  put 
in  another.  "  Poor  child!  how  came  she  out 
at  this  hour?" 

"  See,  she  is  hurt!"  cried  another,  pointing 
to  a  swelling  rising  rapidly  above  the 
stranger's  forehead.  "  She  has  had  a  heavy 
blow— there!  her  eyes  are  opening.  Stand 
back  a  little  and  do  not  frighten  her  with 
so  many  strange  faces." 

Salome — for  our  readers  have  guessed  it 
was  she — did  indeed  open  her  eyes  and  gaze 
about.  At  first  her  expression  was  wild  and 
unnatural,  but  presently  it  became  more 
rational  and  only  wondering  in  quality. 

"  Did  they  kill  me?"  she  asked  in  a  weak 
voice.  "  Is  this  the  Realm  of  Shades?  and 
you— surely  you  are  not  the  cruel  Eumenides 
come  to  harass  me?  You  look  too  kind  for 
that!" 

"  No,  no,  child!  you  are  still  upon  earth 
and  quite  safe  with  those  who  mean  you 
well,"  said  one  of  the  women  who  had 
assisted  the  girl  in.  "  Are  you  feeling  better 
now?" 

"  My  head  aches,"  raising  her  hand  feebly 
to  the  swelled  brow.  "  I  remember— it  was 
that  blow!  It  must  have  knocked  me  sense- 
less. Oh,  did  Hector  get  away?  Were  they 
too  many  for  him?  How  he  did  fight!  But 
I  could  not  get  inside  the  gate,  there  were 
so  many  in  my  way.  Where  is  Hector?" 

The  women  looked  at  each  other,  and  one 
with  a  peculiarly  sweet  face  answered 
gently: 

"  He  is  not  here  just  now.  Who  gave  you 
the  blow,  fair  maiden?" 

"  I  do  not  know,  lady.  I  ran  down  the 
narrow  court  close  by  our  house  to  get 
away,  and  soon  I  heard  footsteps  which  I 
thought  were  Hector's.  I  turned  to  speak, 
and  something  came  crashing  down  upon 
my  head— that  is  all  I  can  recall  about  it." 

"  Who  is  Hector?"  asked  the  dame  again, 
as  she  tenderly  bathed  the  wound,  and 
bound  it  up  with  her  own  kerchief. 

"  My  brother.  We  were  looking  for  my 
lost  amulet.  Alas!  it  is  as  I  said— the  gods 
have  given  us  over  to  destruction." 

"  No,   my  child.      God  has  protected  and 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPI. 


spared  you.  You  fell  into  the  deep  shadow 
of  our  doorway,  where  no  one  else  could  see 
you  until  our  feet  were  guided  hither  by 
grace." 

"But  Hector?" 

"  He  too  will  be  cared  for— fear  not!  Our 
God  is  '  mighty  to  save.'  " 

"You  mean  great  Jupiter,  because  he  is 
the  protector  of  the  Games?  If  only  he 
will!" 

"  No,  child,  we  mean— but  wait!  Her  head 
is  troubling  her  again.  Let  her  rest." 

For  even  with  the  words  Salome's  eyes 
took  on  a  wild  look  and  she  was  soon  toss- 
ing and  muttering  with  fever.  Finding  she 
was  to  prove  an  all-night's  care,  at  least, 
these  kind  Samaritans  removed  her  to  a  pal- 
let in  a  small  room  of  the  little  house,  and 
left  one  of  their  number  to  sit  beside  her, 
while  the  others  reverently  returned  to  the 
meeting.  Here,  quickly  putting  aside  the 
interruption,  they  listened  with  rapture  to 
the  words  of  hope,  comfort  and  encourage- 
ment spoken  by  their  leader,  and  joined 
eagerly  in  such  prayers  and  hymns  as 
seemed  to  bring  heaven  into  the  plain  little 
room,  hidden  by  its  humbleness  from  outer 
violence. 

It  was  the  middle  of  the  next  forenoon  be- 
fore Salome  came  to  herself  once  more.  All 
night  she  had  tossed  in  the  grip  of  fever, 
tenderly  soothed  and  cared  for  by  the  sweet- 
faced  woman,  who  proved  to  be  the  occu- 
pant of  the  house,  and  who  was  called  Eliza- 
beth. She  was  a  young  matron  of  a  gentle 
cast  of  countenance,  yet  one  versed  in  faces 
might  have  read  in  the  brow,  well  de- 
veloped above  the  eyes,  and  in  the  lips  and 
chin,  fine-grained  but  firm,  a  power  of  endur- 
ance and  a  force  of  will  which  the  singularly 
quiet  ways  and  speech  scarce  hinted  at. 
The  first  impression  she  gave  was  entirely 
restful.  In  her  eyes  was  a  peace  passing 
comprehension,  Satome  thought,  as  she  curi- 
ously watched  her,  and  she  wondered  what 
could  give  her  that  supreme  content,  for  she 
was  evidently  very  poor,  and  her  garments 
were  such  as  the  pretty  Greek  girl  would 
have  scorned  to  wear.  Besides,  her  pallor 
showed  she  was  not  well,  and  her  husband 
seemed  a  gruff,  silent  man  who  spoke 
roughly,  if  at  all. 

Salome  from  her  pallet  watched  every  gen- 
tle movement  and  puzzled  much  to  learn 
why,  through  all  that  was  hard  and  trying, 
she  seemed  still  to  hug  some  secret  con- 
sciousness of  joy  so  close  that  no  mere  out- 
ward happening  could  affect  it  in  the  least. 


"  Perhaps,"  thought  the  little  pagan  after 
she  had  lain  for  an  hour  or  two  thus  ques- 
tioning, "perhaps  she  has  received  an 
oracle  from  the  Priest  of  Apollo  at  the  tem- 
ple. Perhaps  she  feels  sure  that,  no  matter 
what  may  happen  just  now,  she  will  have 
good  fortune  later  on,  and  so  bides  her  time, 
and  scarcely  knows  anything  is  wrong.  It 
looks  that  way.  Ah!  I  was  happy  till  I  lost 
my  amulet— that  is,"  as  memory  came  fully 
back,  "  I  was  as  happy  as  people  usually  are 
in  this  world.  Of  course  I  wanted  to  be 
rich  and  noble,  and  it  was  a  great  trial  to 
have  to  walk  instead  of  being  carried  in  a 
litter  through  the  streets,"  but— I  had  •  my 
brothers." 

She  drew  a  long  sigh,  and  Elizabeth  came 
quickly  to  her  side. 

"You  are  weary?"  she  asked  with  her 
placid  smile.  "  Shall  I  talk  to  you?" 

"  Please  tell  me  about  yourself,  dear  lady. 
I  wonder  about  you  as  I  lie  here,  and  that 
tires  me." 

Elizabeth  laughed  brightly.  "  There  is  so 
little  to  tell!  You  have  guessed  from  my 
dress  that  I  am  a  Jewish  woman,  and  I  am 
proud  to  say  I  was  born  in  our  beautiful 
city— Jerusalem.  But  my  husband,  Junius, 
is  a  Roman,  free  born." 

"  Indeed?"  questioned  Salome  with  won- 
der, for  the  marriage  of  a  free-born  Roman 
to  a  Jew  was  extremely  rare.  Her  hostess 
smiled  a  little  and  asked  with  gentle  irony: 

"  Do  you  think  that  so  unlikely?  Yet  why 
not,  Salome?  There  is  neither  Jew,  nor 
Greek,  nor  Roman  either,  in  the  sight  of 
God — all  are  equal  and  his  children."  At 
which  the  girl,  still  too  weak  to  argue,  only 
stared  dumbly,  amazed  at  such  strange 
ideas. 

"  But,"  thought  she,  "  those  Jews  are  all 
queer.  I  have  even  heard  they  claim  to 
have  a  special  god,  who  leads  and  cares  for 
them.  I  suppose,  too,  they  really  were  rich 
and  powerful  once,  but  now  what  miserable 
creatures  they  are!" 

For,  though  one  of  an  enslaved  nation  her- 
self, being  a  conquered  Thracian,  Salome 
looked  down  upon  the  universally  hated 
Jew.  Yet  this  was  only  as  a  class;  in  in- 
dividual cases  she  often  liked  and  even 
honored  them.  So  now  she  listened  to  Eliza- 
beth, thinking  how  sweet  her  smile  and  soft 
her  voice,  until  sleep  closed  her  eyes  in  rest, 
which  did  much  to  restore  her  to  perfect 
health. 

Seeing  how  very  weak  she  still  was,  her 
hostess  left  her  to  slumber  and  stepped  out- 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


side  into  the  narrow  court  of  the  humble 
dwelling.  Here  she  called  softly,  "  Nadab ! 
Nadab!"  and  presently  a  little  boy,  who  so 
closely  resembled  the  fair  Jewess  that  no 
one  could  have  mistaken  their  relationship, 
came  bounding  in  from  the  street. 

"  Well,  mother?"  he  asked  in  a  voice  full 
of  loving  respect,  "  what  is  it  you  need  me 
for  now?" 

"  I  will  tell  you.  my  son;  but  first,  did  you 
wet  up  the  flags  as  I  bade  you?" 

"  Yes,  mother." 

"  That  is  right.  And  now  I  want  you  to  go 
to  the  second  street  south,  and  look  along  its 
length  until  you  come  to  a  low  house  close 
by  a  narrow  walled  court,  and  upon  the 
corner  of  a  paved  and  covered  footway  lead- 
ing east.  Inquire  there  for  a  man  named 
Hector,  and  when  he  is  found  tell  him  his 
sister  is  here  and  safe,  though  ill,  and  that 
he  may  come  and  see  her.  if  he  please." 

"  Very  well,  mother."  Then  in  a  whisper, 
"But  is  she  a  Christian?"  and  he  nodded 
his  head  toward  the  house  to  indicate  the 
guest  of  a  night. 

"  No,  Nadab,  she  is  a  pagan." 

"  But,  mother,  why  then—" 

"  My  boy,  have  you  not  yet  learned  the 
true  spirit  of  Christ?  Does  he  make  any 
distinction  in  his  love  and  succor?  Is  not 
our  great  Paul,  whom  we  are  soon  expecting 
here,  constantly  showing  this  to  us  in  all 
his  teachings?  Surely,  Nadab,  you  know 
this." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  was  not  meaning  just  that.  I 
was  thinking  of— of  our  safety,  mother." 

"  We  can  leave  that  with  Jesus,  child," 
she  answered  with  a  smile  that  made  her 
pale  face  radiant. 

The  boy  looked  at  her  with  a  little  wonder 
and  much  admiration  in  his  eyes.  Then  he 
gave  his  head  a  wise  shake. 

"  But  father?"  he  asked  archly. 

Elizabeth's  uplifted  countenance  clouded 
swiftly  over  for  an  instant,  then  as  swiftly 
cleared. 

"  Let  us  trust  he  will  be  glad  to  have  us 
do  the  right  thing.  Nadab— and  until  he 
speaks  we  will  take  his  consent  for  granted. 
Now  run  along,  my  son,  and  raise  no  more 
objections,  I  beg." 

Her  sweet  smile  softened  the  reproof,  and 
he  waved  his  hand  gayly  to  her  as  he  started 
briskly  off  upon  his  errand.  But  his  mother, 
left  alone,  stood  a  moment  in  thoughtful 
silence,  then  bent  her  head  and  clasped  her 
hands.  She  was  asking  help  for  needs 
which  only  she  and  her  God  could  under- 


stand. In  a  moment,  cheered  and  strength- 
ened, she  turned  away,  sought  out  from  a 
little  shed  at  the  rear  of  the  court  a  large 
bunch  of  flags,  and  seating  herself  on  the 
stone  pavement,  was  soon  busily  employed 
weaving  them  into  a  basket. 

It  was  not  a  great  while  before  Nadab  re- 
turned, looking  flushed  from  his  run  in  the 
blazing  sunshine.  As  soon  as  he  could  catch 
his  breath  he  burst  out  with  a  long  story. 
He  had  been  everywhere  in  the  near  vicinity 
without  finding  any  trace  of  the  man,  for 
the  little  house  she  had  told  him  of  was  evi- 
dently deserted.  He  had  knocked  loud  and 
long  without  making  any  one  hear,  and 
when  some  of  the  neighbors  appeared,  to 
ask  what  he  wanted,  they  had  told  him  that 
not  one  of  the  family  had  been  seen  this 
morning.  One  of  these,  who  had  been  wake- 
ful last  night,  believed  that  Hector  had  been 
dragged  off  by  the  "  bucket-men  "  to  prison, 
and  that  Salome  and  her  little  maid  had 
fled  to  some  friends  in  another  part  «f  the 
city. 

"  And  did  you  let  them  know  where  she 
really  is?"  asked  Elizabeth  quickly. 

Nadab  looked  at  her  with  a  merry  expres- 
sion on  his  face.  "  Do  you  think  I  am  so 
foolish?"  he  laughed.  "  No,  I  told  them  noth- 
ing." 

"  It  was  not  necessary,"  responded  the 
mother  with  dignity.  "  Though  we  must  al- 
ways be  '  harmless  as  doves.'  so  must  we  b6 
'  wise  as  serpents  '  also,  in  these  hard  times. 
We  will  do  our  best  for  the  poor  heathen 
girl,  but  we  cannot  let  her  frieiids  know  all 
the  secrets  of  our  home.  Well,  what  next?" 

"  I  had  just  finished  talking  with  the  man 
and  was  turning  away  to  come  home,  he 
having  gone  inside,  when  a  big  boy  with  a 
splendid  face  and  figure  came  swinging 
down  the  street.  He  passed  me  by  and,  as 
I  looked  back  after  him,  I  saw  that  he,  too, 
had  gone  to  the  little  wall  gate,  and  was 
knocking  as  if  he  fully  expected  to  get  in. 
Finding  nobody  came,  he  stepped  back  and 
looked  the  house  all  over  with  surprise,  then 
knocked  again,  this  time  in  an  odd  way- 
three  raps,  a  rest— two  more,  a  rest— then 
one.  But  no  one  came.  After  a  little  he  be- 
gan walking  slowly  towards  me,  still  look- 
ing back  as  if  he  could  not  give  it  up.  I 
thought  this  might  be  the  one  I  was  looking 
for,  as  he  was  a  well-grown  youth,  so  1 
stepped  up  to  him  and  asked,  '  Is  your  name 
Hector?'  He  looked  at  me  in  a  queer  way 
for  a  minute,  then  said,  '  No;  why  do  you 
ask  me  that?'  But  you  have  taught  me 


s 


THE   WBESTLEB  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


caution,  mother,  so  I  only  said,  '  No  matter,' 
and  walked  away." 

"That  was  right,  Nadab.  Still—"  His 
mother  mused  a  moment.  "  No,  she  has 
spoken  only  of  the  one  brother,  Hector.  And 
they  really  think  he  is  in  prison?  Poor  child! 
What  will  she  do?  She  seems  to  have  no 
other  protector.  I  have  talked  with  her  a 
little  and  she  says  they  are  orphans.  But 
come,  while  she  sleeps  we  must  hurry  on  the 
weaving,  that  we  may  earn  the  more  to 
care  for  her.  Sit  right  down  here  by  me. 
You  will  soon  grow  cool  in  this  shade." 

For  this  Christian  woman  and  her  son 
eked  out  the  scanty  family  purse  by  weaving 
baskets,  and  thus  were  enabled  to  carry  on 
their  charities  without  trenching  upon  what 
was  required  by  the  master  of  the  house, 
the  haughty  Junius.  He  was,  meantime,  at 
his  post  as  driver  of  a  gang  of  street-clean- 
ers, called  police,  mostly  convicts  or  run- 
away slaves  undergoing  punishment,  and 
thus  condemned  to  serve  at  hard  labor, 
chained  together  by  twos,  or  fours,  under 
a  task-master  who  kept  them  to  their  labor 
with  a  whip  of  many  thongs,  called  a 
scourge. 

It  was  an  employment  to  brutalize  any 
man,  and  Elizabeth  grieved  in  secret  as  she 
saw  her  once  kind  and  loving  husband  grow 
daily  more  haughty,  stern,  and  importunate 
of  his  own  rights  and  comforts.  Junius  was 
not  a  Christian,  nor  in  fact  much  of  a  pagan, 
either.  He  affected  the  hard  philosophy  of 
Seneca,  Socrates,  and  lesser  teachers,  who 
bade  men  endure  because  they  must,  until 
endurance  became  impossible,  when  they 
were  pointed  to  but  one  relief— the  "  opeu 
door." 

This  door  of  death  by  one's  own  hand  was 
startlingly  common.  When  a  man  lost 
heart  or  fortune,  favor  at  court,  or  the  pre- 
ferment he  had  been  hoping  for,  he  fell  upon 
his  sword,  or  drank  the  poisoned  cup,  and 
really  thought  himself  brave  because  he 
dared  the  dark  unknown  rather  than  suffer 
defeat  in  the  present  life.  As  if  one  could 
ever  escape  disgrace  by  added  cowardice! 
As  if  such  a  death  were  not  the  loudest 
proclamation  of  utter  defeat!  As  if  it  were 
not  always  a  braver  thing  to  meet  a  foe  face 
to  face  than  to  turn  the  back  and  leap  into 
a  pit  to  escape  him! 

Yet  Junius  was  but  one  of  many  who,  dis- 
gusted with  a  religion  which  made  the  gods 
but  a  more  powerful  humanity,  controlled  by 
the  every-day  passions  of  every-day  men, 
set  himself  up  as  his  own  only  god  to  wor- 


ship as  long  as  he  could  stan-l  erect,  and  to 
slay  as  soon  as  he  was  forced  to  yield  to  cir- 
cumstances. 

It  was  a  dark,  cold,  and  selfish  belief, 
warping  both  heart  and  understanding,  and 
Elizabeth's  wifely  heart  yearned  to  bring 
him  to  a  knowledge  of  the  warm,  living,  lov- 
ing faith  in  which  she  joyed  and  triumphed; 
but  so  far  her  efforts  had  been  vain. 


CHAPTER  III. 

WITH  ELIZABETH. 

BY  and  by  Salome,  waking  from  her  long 
nap,  heard  soft  strains  stealing  from 
the  next  room,   apparently.      She  lay 
quite  still,  hardly  awake  yet,  and  dreamily 
listened.    There  were  two  voices,  evidently- 
one  a  boy's,  and  the  other,  with  its  smooth, 
clear  cadences,  she  felt  certain  belonged  to 
her  sweet-faced  hostess. 

Salome  smiled  in  quiet  enjoyment.  She 
felt  serenely  comfortable;  her  head  had 
ceased  to  throb,  her  fever  to  burn.  A  re- 
freshing breeze  blew  across  her  from  a  win- 
dow close  by,  bringing  the  faint  perfume  of 
jasmine  blossoms,  and  the  room  in  which 
she  lay  was  fresh  and  cool  from  a  recent  wot 
sweeping  and  sanding.  It  was  a  tiny  room, 
and  plain  to  meagreness.  Yet  it  gave  her 
none  of  that  repulsion  she  always  felt  in  the 
homes  of  the  very  poor  with  which  she  was 
familiar,  for  its  atmosphere  was  sweet  with 
cleanliness. 

The  room,  her  own  white  pallet,  the  per 
fume,  and  the  song,  seemed  somehow  to  melt 
and  mingle  in  a  perfect  harmony,  and  she 
closed  her  eyes  restfully,  listening,  while  her 
body  basked  in  calm  repose.  To  this  mood 
the  music  seemed  to  add  its  enjoyment,  for 
it  was  of  a  gentle,  peaceful  character,  and 
the  voices,  if  untrained,  were  sincere  and 
sweet.  She  listened  to  the  words: 

"  But  God,  who  is  so  rich  in  grace." 

"  How  queer!"  she  thought.  "  That  means 
kindness,  good-will,  generous  giving.  Not 
rich  in  great  countries,  luscious  fruits,  or 
beautiful  garments  and  jewels— no,  nor  even 
in  magnificent  temples  and  many  priests,"— 
as  she  had  always  imagined  her  gods  to  be 
rich. 

"  By  His  love,  freely  given." 

"Oh,  freely,  indeed!  No,  no!"  thought  the 
little  pagan,  "  that  is  not  quite  true.  We 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


must  win  great  Apollo's  or  Diana's  favors  by 
gifts   and   sacrifices,   and   constant   propiti- 
ation in  processions  and  offerings." 
But  the  song  went  on: 

"  E'en  while  we  yet  were  dead  in  sin 
Hath  raised  us  up  to  heaven." 

"Dead  in  sin!"— that  struck  her  as  a 
singular  expression.  It  made  her  think  of 
Pluto  and  the  dark  Nether  World  of  helpless 
Shades  and  wicked  Daemons.  But  the  next 
line  was  beautiful—"  Hath  raised  us  up  to 
heaven!" 

She  knew  about  Olympus,  where  the  gods 
dwelt  in  bliss,  though,  when  hearing  of  all 
their  quarrels  and  heart-burnings,  it  often 
occurred  to  her  that  they  could  not  find  it 
entirely  delightful  there!  But  these  singers 
chanted  as  if  fairly  in  heaven  now  and  here, 
gladness  thrilling  all  along  the  sweet,  slow 
notes,  as  melody  and  merriment  shake  from 
the  quivering  roulades  of  the  mavis  in  the 
loveliness  of  early  morning.  It  made 
Salome's  heart  beat  to  a  freer  measure,  also, 
and  she  rose  up  in  bed,  thinking: 

"  I  must  not  lie  here  playing  at  illness 
when  dear  Hector  may  not  know  where  I 
am.  I  will  get  up  and  put  on  my  garments 
as  soon  as  they  cease  that  sweet  singing." 

But  it  stopped,  even  with  her  resolve,  and 
in  another  instant  the  trim,  small  head  of 
Elizabeth  appeared  at  the  door. 

"  Are  you  awake?"  she  asked  gayly,  and 
Salome  noticed  on  her  fair  face  a  radiance 
brighter  than  smiles. 

"  Yes,"  was  the  reply,  •'  and  much  better. 
Has  my  brother  come  for  me  yet?" 

Her  hostess  stepped  closer.  "  My  dear," 
she  said  affectionately,"  I  am  glad  you  are 
better;  but  you  must  keep  quiet  yet  a  little 
while,"  (seeing  the  girl  about  to  rise)  "  or 
the  fever  may  return  and  undo  all  the 
benefit  of  this  long  sleep." 

"  But  my  brother?" 

Elizabeth  dipped  a  soft  cloth  in  a  jar  of 
water  standing  near,  and  placed  it  on  the 
wounded  head. 

"Peace,  child!"  she  murmured,  pressing 
the  eager  little  figure  back  upon  her  pallet. 
"  My  Nadab  has  been  to  look  for  your 
brother,  but  he  is  not  at  home,  it  seems,  just 
now.  Can  you  not  wait  patiently  a  few 
hours?" 

"  But  it  is  so  queer!  Perhaps— where  is 
Persis?  Did  he  find  her?" 

"  Your  little  slave  girl?  No,  the  door  was 
locked.  They  may  both  be  out  seeking  for 
you." 


"  Why,  surely!"  Salome  caught  at  the 
idea  Avith  relief.  "  I  never  thought  of  that. 
Of  course  they  would  be.  And  how  odd  that 
I  should  be  lying  here,  perfectly  safe,  so  near 
home!  Poor  Hector!  He  will  be  in  despair 
about  me." 

"  You  are  fond  of  your  brother?"  remarked 
the  gentle  woman,  bringing  her  weaving 
and  sitting  down  sociably  close  by. 

"  Of  my  brothers,  you  mean.    Oh,  yes!" 

Elizabeth  looked  up  quickly.  "  Then  you 
have  more  than  one?" 

"  Yes,  two— Hector  and  Herklas." 

"  But  you  did  not  mention  the  latter." 

"  No,  alas!  for  I  do  not  know  where  he 
Is." 

Tears  came  into  her  eyes,  and  Elizabeth, 
fearing  new  agitation,  said  quickly: 

"  I  should  not  have  asked — we  will  speak 
of  other  things." 

"  No,  it  will  not  hurt  me  to  tell  you.  I 
have  longed  to  talk  about  him,  often,  but 
Persis  is  so  stupid,  and  Hector  thinks  it  only 
makes  me  more  unhappy.  Herklas  is  my 
younger  brother— I  am  between  the  two  in 
age — not  yet  sixteen  and  the  dearest  boy  in 
all  the  world." 

"  Dearer  than  Hector?"  smiled  the  other, 
pleased  with  the  girl's  animation. 

"  Well,  Hector  is  a  great,  strong  man- 
more  like  a  father,  I  often  think,  though  a 
boy  too  in  many  ways.  Besides,  he  is  gone 
a  great  deal,  for  you  must  know  he  has 
twice  won  the  wreath  at  the  Olympics  for 
wrestling.  Thus  he  is  ever  thinking  of  his 
gymnasium,  his  new  throws,  and  his  plans 
for  next  year.  But  Herklas  was  almost  like 
a  girl  in  some  ways — gentle  and  kind.  He 
.  likes  music  better  than  fighting,  and  we  used 
to  sing  together  by  the  hour  to  the  merry 
strains  of  his  viol.  He  was  in  training  for 
the  temple  choir.  He  was  away  most  of  the 
day  at  the  shop,  to  be  sure,  but  we  always 
had  our  evenings  together,  and  we  were 
very  happy." 

"  But  you  speak  in  the  past,  my  child. 
Surely  you  do  not  believe  him  to  be  dead?" 

"Oh,  I  hope  not!  Yet  how  can  I  tell? 
Madam,"  bending  forward  with  an  anxious 
look,  and  speaking  almost  in  a  whisper, 
"  did  you  ever  know  any  of  those  despised 
people  called  Christians?" 

Elizabeth  started  and  the  blood  flushed  her 
whole  face,  then  receded  to  pallor. 

"Why  do  you  ask?"  she  said  sharply. 

"  Because  I  sometimes  think  Herklas  has 
in  some  way  been  drawn  into  their  hands. 
It  is  thus  Vitellis,  his  master,  hints,  though 


10 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPL 


he  dare  not  come  out  boldly  and  say  so. 
They  tell  me  they  are  very  sly  and  cunning, 
and  that  they  stop  at  nothing." 

"  Who  tells  you  so?"  asked  the  woman  in  a 
muffled  voice,  bending  closer  over  her  work. 

"  Oh,  the  priests — and  everybody.  They 
say  they  take  in  Jew  or  Greek,  Cyprian  or 
Athenian,  Persian  or  Cappadocian— all  is 
fish  that  comes  to  their  net." 

A  smile  stole  about  the  sweet,  grave  lips 
of  Elizabeth.  "  And  what  do  they  do  then, 
dear  child,  when  thus  they  have  become 
'  fishers  of  men  '  ?" 

"Ah,  that  is  just  what  I  do  not  know! 
Undoubtedly  they  are  full  of  sorceries,  and 
they  may  have  changed  my  poor  Herklas 
into  an  animal  and  sent  him  to  wander  dis- 
mally among  the  hills,  for  aught  I  know. 
Think!  even  should  I  meet  him  there  I  Avould 
never  know  him." 

The  other's  laugh  rang  out  merrily. 
"  What  nonsense!  Do  you  actually  believe 
such  things,  and  you  nearly  a  woman 
grown?  Pooh,  pooh,  my  dear!  such  super- 
stitions are  unworthy  of  you." 

"But  what  so  queer  in  that?  Was  not 
Narcissus  turned  into  a  flowering  tree?  And 
who,  indeed,  are  the  nymphs  and  naiads  buv 
wood  and  water  clothed  in  human  form? 
We  hear  of  many  being  punished,  or  made 
immortal,  by  such  transformations." 

Elizabeth's  answer  was  an  arch  glance 
and  the  words:  "You  give  the  Christians 
great  power,  Salome;  as  great  as  you  ascribe 
to  your  own  gods.  Yet  they  pretend  to  noth- 
ing above  other  human  beings,  except  a 
clearer  idea  of  the  Love  that  is  divine." 

Salome  was  silenced.  She  could  but  feel 
the  force  of  this  argument.  Either  she  must 
give  up  her  assumption  that  the  Christians 
were  a  mean  and  despicable  people,  or  else 
the  other,  that  they  could  work  such  terrible 
changes  as  even  the  heathen  gods,  them- 
selves, upon  man.  But  before  she  could  find 
an  answer  Elizabeth  broke  out  again: 

"  Salome,  it  is  only  ignorance  that  makes 
people  look  upon  us  in  this  light — " 

" '  Us '  ?"  interrupted  the  girl  with  a 
startled  look.  "  What  do  you  mean?" 

"  Just  what  I  say,  for  I  too  am  a  Chris- 
tian." 

She  turned  a  trifle  pale  as  she  made  the 
bold  assertion,  and  Salome  drew  back  with 
an  expression  of  alarm— indeed,  almost 
horror.  She  had  heard  such  terrible  things 
of  this  new  sect!  In  every  oracle  received, 
in  every  address  given  at  the  forum,  in  the 
private  teachings  of  the  priests,  as  well  as 


in  their  public  ministry,  she  had  listened 
repeatedly  to  warnings  of  the  most  austere 
nature  leveled  against  this  new  worship. 
She  had  heard  the  Crucified  One  alternately 
named  as  a  common  criminal  making  un- 
common claims,  as  a  sorcerer  whose  arts 
could  not  save  himself,  as  a  lunatic  and 
fanatic,  as  a  common  slave  Jew,  seditious 
and  troublesome— as  everything  but  the  gen- 
tle teacher  of  a  God  of  love.  Is  it  any  won- 
der she  gazed  upon  her  hostess  as  if  she  had 
suddenly  turned  into  a  monster?  But  the 
latter  went  on  quickly,  not  giving  her  time 
to  voice  her  astonishment: 

"  It  is  to  Christians  you  are  indebted  for 
your  escape,  last  night.  Instead  of  doing 
harm  we  are  commanded  to  be  kind  and 
loving,  even  to  our  enemies.  This  is  the 
first  example  set  us  by  Christ,  and  nobody 
can  be  truly  one  of  His  unless  that  rule  of 
conduct  is  carried  out.  Have  I  ill-treated 
you?  Did  we  show  you  insults,  or  neglect, 
last  night?  Yet  one  and  all  of  us  are  proud 
to  own  ourselves  followers  of  Christ." 

Salome  listened  with  almost  breathless 
surprise. 

"  It  is  true!"  she  acknowledged  half  inaudi- 
bly.  "  It  is  all  true,  but—"  She  raised  her- 
self upon  one  elbow  and  bent  her  large  dark 
eyes  upon  the  fair  woman  beside  her.  "  Tell 
me  more!"  she  said  with  unconscious  im- 
periousness.  "  Either  they  have  lied  to  me, 
or  else  you  are  far  better  than  your  own 
God.  Tell  me  more!" 

A  beautiful  smile  broke  over  Elizabeth's 
flushed  face.  "  Indeed  I  should  love  to!" 
she  answered  heartily.  "  I  always  feel  that 
if  one  really  understands  our  lovely  faith, 
he  cannot  help  but  embrace  it.  Yet  alas! 
these  are  troublous  times  and  we  are  few 
and  feeble.  Too  often  fear  and  self-interest 
tie  our  tongues  when  we  should  speak  out 
boldly  for  the  right.  I  risk  something  in 
thus  talking  to  you,  even,  Salome,  but  I  am 
resolved  to  think  no  more  of  that — only  of 
your  soul's  happiness." 

Then,  beginning  with  Christ's  beautiful 
life  and  continuing  until  His  marvelous 
death,  she  told  in  plain  and  simple  words 
the  story  of  the  Cross.  Salome  lay  back  on 
her  pillow,  but  scarcely  took  her  eyes  from 
the  speaking  face  opposite  during  the  whole 
of  the  recital.  Once  or  twice,  she  inter- 
rupted by  a  question  or  two,  and  Elizabeth 
noticed  that  these  questions  were  shrewd 
and  thoughtful.  Not  a  word  was  lost  upon 
her;  not  a  thought  came  into  the  mind  of  the 
relator  that  did  not  seem  instantly  reflected 


THE  WRESTLES  OF  PHILIPPL 


11 


in  that  of  the  listener.  They  were  in  perfect 
accord,  except  for  the  overwhelming  sense 
of  doubt  and  mystery  that  shadowed  the 
girl's  understanding. 

Could  it  be  true?  Could  the  great  and 
majestic  God  of  all  the  universe  come  down 
to  our  needs,  into  our  homes  and  our  hearts, 
to  work,  to  heal,  to  suffer,  and  to  die,  just 
for  us?  And  all  this  for  what?  To  teach  us 
the  better  way  of  living;  to  make  sacrifice 
and  self-surrender  divine,  and  self-seeking 
and  worldly  honors  contemptible;  to  make 
us  His  friends  instead  of  servants;  to  bring 
heaven  to  us  here  upon  earth  if  we  would 
but  look,  listen,  and  live  as  He  taught  us! 
Surely,  no  god,  from  great  Zeus  to  the  weak- 
est Erynne  of  mischief,  ever  conceived  of 
an  idea  so  tender,  and  so  filled  with  blessing 
to  man.  Salome  drew  a  long  sigh  as  Eliza- 
beth ceased,  then  murmured  in  a  faint  voice: 

"  It  is  a  marvelous  legend,  but  do  you  ex- 
pect me  to  believe  it  literally?" 

"  Assuredly,"  replied  the  other.  "  Am  I 
not  risking  my  own  safety  in  telling  you? 
And  would  I  do  that  for  a  mere  senseless 
tale?" 

Salome  lay  very  still.  She  was  as  white  as 
the  cover  of  sail-cloth  on  which  she  re- 
clined. Strange,  half -formed  ideas,  too  great 
for  her  undeveloped  intellect  to  grasp  so 
quickly,  surged  through  her  brain.  Eliza- 
beth, glancing  at  her,  saw  the  wistful,  dark- 
ened eyes  and  the  pallor,  but  only  half 
guessed  at  the  emotion  they  signified. 

"  Poor  little  girl!"  she  said  pitifully.  "  You 
are  harassed  and  troubled,  and  One  is  wait- 
ing to  help.  Cast  all  your  care  upon  Him." 

Suddenly  Salome  sat  upright.  "  My  care? 
It  is  anxiety  for  my  brothers.  How  can  He 
bear  that  for  me?" 

"  Ah,  do  you  not  see?  If  you  trusted  Him 
as  I  do,  you  would  not  worry.  You  would 
know  they  were  safe  with  Him,  and  that 
He  cares  for  them  even  more  than  you  do. 
So  whatever  came,  in  life  or  death,  you  could 
rest  «pon  that  knowledge  and  be  at  'peace." 

"  Oh!"  breathed  the  girl,  sinking  back  once 
more,  "  it  sounds  so  restful— if  it  is  true.  If 
only  I  could  be  certain!" 

She  nestled  her  head  lower  and  closed  her 
eyes.  She  wanted  to  think  in  quiet;  but 
Elizabeth,  looking  at  her,  believed  her 
wearied,  and  reproached  herself  for  talking 
so  much,  and  upon  subjects  so  exciting.  So 
she  said  softly: 

"  Well,  then,  rest  now.  And  be  sure  it  is 
all  true.  When  you  are  stronger  we  will 
talk  again."  Then  she  left  her  guest  to  the 


sleep  or  musings  which  she  felt  sure  would 
follow. 

Salome  was  a  mere  child,  as  yet.  in  wis- 
dom and  discretion,  even  if,  by  Oriental  com- 
putation, a  woman  in  years.  She  had  been 
most  tenderly  cherished,  having  received  a 
larger  share  of  attention  and  petting  thau 
often  fell  to  the  lot  of  a  girl  among  the  lower 
classes.  She  was  inclined  to  be  petulant  and 
vain,  in  consequence,  but  her  heart  was  lov- 
ing and  faithful  and  there  were  capabilities 
in  her  nature  which  might  develop  stronger 
traits  with  time. 

Just  now,  lonely,  homesick  and  wounded, 
she  longed  only  for  consolation,  and  Eliza- 
beth's sweet  words  had  fallen  upon  her  soul 
with  tenfold  power.  Had  they  come  when 
all  was  fortunate  she  might  have  overlooked 
them— now  she  clung  to  every  sentence,  re- 
peating it  again  and  again,  longing  to  make 
this  faith  her  very  own. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IMPRISONED. 

WHEN  Hector  rushed  so  madly  into  the 
street  he  knew  well  enough  that  he 
was  risking  his  own  safety.  It  was 
not  for  any  common  citizen  to  disturb  the 
sleepers  of  Philippi,  whatever  the  gay  nobles 
at  the  Castle  might  do.  As  he  went  tearing 
along  after  those  who,  he  felt  sure,  had 
carried  his  sister  off  to  a  slavery  which, 
however  gilded  by  wealth,  was  at  best  horri- 
ble and  degrading,  he  did  not  cease  to  howl 
out  threatenings  and  curses,  not  only  loud 
but  deep.  Such  high-handed  deeds  had  been 
comparatively  unknown  in  this  beautiful 
mountain-walled  town,  except  when  a  tem- 
porary residence  of  some  of  the  dissolute 
Roman  court  brought  the  practices  of  that 
metropolis  to  its  quiet  streets,  and  Hector 
felt  all  the  indignation  of  a  man  unused  to 
oppression  and  tyi'anny. 

For  amid  the  industrioiis  Philippians  the 
Games,  both  Olympic  and  Isthmian,  were 
held  in  high  repute,  and  a  well-trained  par- 
ticipant such  as  Hector,  was  always  treated 
with  respect.  Unlike  the  Roman  gladiators, 
who  were  almost  invariably  criminals,  or 
captives,  condemned  to  death,  and  whipped 
on  to  their  feats  of  valor  by  lictors  in  the 
pay  of  the  government,  the  contestants  in 
the  Greek  Games  must  be  free-born,  unsul- 
lied by  crime,  and  of  good  reputation  in  the 


12 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPI. 


•community.  Their  only  reward  was  sup- 
posed to  be  the  golden  wreath  bestowed  by 
the  judges,  but  in  reality  a  successful  run- 
ner, or  wrestler,  was  scarcely  ever  in  want 
of  money.  Many  of  the  city's  privileges 
were  open  to  him,  and  the  wealthier  citizens 
were  proud  to  make  him  the  object  of 
bounteous  gifts  and  favors. 

No  wonder  he  felt  himself  in  some  sense 
superior  to  his  neighbors.  Thus,  amid  all 
Hector's  rage  to-night,  was  a  strong  feeling 
that,  had  these  people  known  just  who  he 
was,  they  would  not  have  dared  thus  to 
molest  him,  and  this  added  an  extra  smart 
to  his  fears  and  doubts. 

He  did  not  cease  his  raging  till  he  reached 
the  very  gates  of  the  Castle,  where  he  was 
promptly  challenged  by  the  sentinels. 

"  My  sister!"  cried  Hector,  the  only  pass- 
word he  could  think  of  then.  "  Where  is 
that  mad  party  of  drunken  men?  I  saw 
their  rich  robes  under  the  togas— I  saw 
their  link-bearers  and  forerunners — I  know 
who  they  are  well  enough.  Let  the  wretches 
give  me  back  my  sister  or — " 

"  Peace!"  muttered  the  outer  sentinel,  an 
honest  fellow  who  did  not  care  to  see  this 
venturesome  yoiing  Thraoian  run  his  neck 
into  certain  trouble.  "  Peace!  You  will 
rouse  the  garrison,  and  what  will  they  care 
for  you  and  your  sister?" 

Even  as  he  spoke  came  a  ringing  shout 
from  one  of  the  narrow  slits  of  windows  in 
the  nearest  tower. 

"  Arrest  that  brawler  and  fling  him  into 
prison!  If  that  will  not  stop  him,  try  the 
stocks  or  the  scourge." 

The  tone  was  authoritative,  and  before 
Hector  could  make  his  escape,  even  had  he 
tried  to  do  so,  he  was  seized  by  half  a  dozen 
soldiers,  who  soon  beat  him  into  tractability 
and  dragged  him  down  the  hill  to  one  of  the 
loathsome  dungeons  of  the  prison  in  the 
forum,  reserved  for  slaves  and  criminals  of 
lowest  rank.  These  dungeons  were  wet, 
cold,  noisome,  and  rotting  underground 
holes,  full  of  pestilential  odors,  and  with  no 
windows  except  perhaps  an  inch-wide  slit 
in  the  wall  far  above  the  head  of  the  un- 
happy occupant.  Here,  chained  to  the  moldy 
floor,  with  no  bed,  unless  by  special  favor  a 
heap  of  rotting  straw,  his  condition  was 
such  as  to  kill  all  life  and  hope,  if  not  the  in- 
tellect, entirely. 

Hector's  manful  resistance  to  his  captors 
only  increased  his  punishment,  for  finding 
him  so  lusty  a  fighter  the  keeper  thoxight 
best  to  double-chain  him— that  is,  secure 


both  feet  instead  of  one,  and  have  an  extra 
chain  run  from  foot  to  hand.  He  had  been 
almost  beside  himself  during  his  capture, 
and  when  his  dazed  senses  returned  he 
found  himself  unable  to  move  and  in  utter 
darkness,  a  prey  to  the  most  anxious 
thoughts — anxious  not  only  for  himself,  but 
for  the  sister  he  so  fondly  loved. 

But  in  such  a  situation  there  was  nothing 
to  do  but  wait  upon  the  will  of  others  with  a 
patience  born  of  helplessness,  and  he  lay 
back  immovable  and  silent,  though  every 
heart-throb  was  a  groan  of  wretchedness. 

Meanwhile,  a  few  days  later,  Salome  found 
herself  well  enough  to  get  about,  and,  beg- 
ging the  company  of  her  hostess,  the  two 
sallied  forth  to  see  what  had  happened  at 
the  little  house  within  the  wall.  It  was  hard 
for  Salome  to  keep  her  steps  down  to  a  sober 
pace,  so  anxious  was  she  to  be  at  home 
again,  and  though  she  was  still  weak,  and 
her  head  sore  from  the  heavy  bruise,  she  felt 
all  the  exhilaration  of  a  convalescent  out 
once  more  in  the  fresh  air  and  sunshine. 

It  seemed  to  her  that  her  adopted  city  had 
never  been  so  beautiful  since  she  had  come 
to  it,  a  tiny  child,  from  the  adjoining  country 
of  Thracia.  And  indeed  there  was  ground 
for  her  raptures.  Philippi,  this  fair  city  of 
Macedonia,  seemed  endowed  with  every  gift 
of  art  and  nature. 

If  not  actually  a  seaport,  it  shared  honors 
with  Neapolis  on  the  coast,  and  was  scarcely 
ten  miles  inland,  while  the  approach  over  a 
ridge  of  high  land  and  across  the  wide  his- 
toric plain,  crossed  and  recrossed  by  numer- 
ous runlets  of  clear  water,  was  really  beau- 
tiful. To  the  west  and  north  loomed  the 
mountains  forming  the  border  line  between 
Macedonia  and  Thracia,  and  from  their  pure 
snows  came  the  precious  water  in  such 
quantities  it  had  once  been  called  the 
"  Place  of  Fountains."  It  was  a  garrisoned 
city,  and  the  walls  of  the  fort  and  castle  rose 
massive  and  white  against  the  south-west- 
ern horizon,  while  its  being  a  colonia  of 
Rome  gave  it  especial  privileges,  and  free- 
dom from  most  of  the  oppressions  naturally 
expected  in  a  conquered  town. 

When  the  two  women  reached  the  little 
house,  somewhat  aloof  from  the  business 
portion,  Salome  knocked  loud  and  long  at 
the  gate,  but  without  response,  and  finally  a 
neighbor  appeared  to  say: 

"  The  family  have  all  gone  away  and— 
why,  Salome,  is  that  you?" 

"  Yes,  indeed!"  said  the  girl  quickly.    "  But 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHIL1PPI. 


13 


what  do  you  mean?  Where  is  Hector? 
Where  is  our  slave  girl,  Persis?  Has  no  one 
been  here  since  I  left?" 

"  No  one  except  your  brother  Herklas,  and 
he  could  not  gain  entrance." 

"Herklas?  My  brother  Herklas— the 
younger— are  you  sure?" 

"  Certes!  My  daughter  saw  him  from  the 
roof  and  said  he  seemed  much  troubled  be- 
cause he  could  make  no  one  hear." 

"  When  was  that?"  interposed  Elizabeth 
quickly. 

He  named  the  morning,  and  she  felt  sura 
it  was  this  lost  brother  whom  Nadab  had 
seen  when  searching  for  Hector.  Should  she 
speak  about  it,  or  would  it  only  add  to  the 
girl's  regrets  and  sorrows?  Salome  inter- 
rupted her  musings  by  asking  sharply: 

"But  where  is  he  now?  Did  he  leave  no 
word  ?" 

"  Not  with  any  of  my  house.  I  know  noth- 
ing more  about  him.  Thirza  told  me  he 
went  away  soon,  as  if  in  haste,  and  has  not 
been  seen  again." 

"  Strange!  And  oh,  how  unfortunate  that 
I  was  not  here!  I  am  fated  to  lose  all  I 
love."  She  caught  Elizabeth's  eyes  fixed 
upon  her  in  mild  rebuke,  and  added  more 
gently,  "  But  let  us  hope  all  will  yet  come 
right.  Can  you  tell  me  nothing  of  Hector,  or 
Persis?" 

By  this  time  a  group  of  women,  many  with 
water-jars  upon  their  heads,  just  as  they 
had  come  from  filling  them  at  the  public 
fountains,  had  gathered  around  the  two. 
One  of  these  shook  her  head  and  muttered: 

"  I  know  what  the  men  think,  well 
enough." 

The  remark  was  not  intended  for  Salome's 
ears,  but  she  caught  it  and  turned  with  the 
quick  question: 

"What,  then?" 

The  woman  hesitated;  but  another,  bolder 
or  perhaps  less  tender-hearted,  blurted  out: 

"They  all  say  he  is  in  prison!" 

"But  why — why?"  Salome's  eyes  were 
wild  with  terror.  "  What  has  my  good 
Hector  done?  You  all  know  his  honesty,  his 
high  standing.  Why,  he  is  a  twice-crowned 
Olympionic!" 

Her  voice  rang  with  indignation  and  pride. 

"  We  know,"  said  one  sorrowfully,  "  but 
you  forget  some  of  the  Court  are  here." 

"The  Court?  But  what  of  that?  A  con- 
testant is  exempt  from  imprisonment  for  any 
cause  for  a  month  before  the  Games,  and  to- 
morrow the  month  begins." 

"  What  do   these   Roman   patricinns   care 


for  that?"  asked  one  young  girl  with  the 
dark,  spirited  face  of  a  Syrian  Jew.  "  Little 
they  stop  for  your  sacred  games  and  cus- 
toms." 

Salome  turned  from  one  to  another,  her 
face  pallid. 

She  was  trembling  all  over  with  the  dread- 
ful sense  of  outrage  and  helplessness. 

"  How  have  they  dared!"  she  broke  out  in 
a  deep  voice  as  unlike  the  petulance  of  all 
former  griefs  as  her  present  emotion,  en- 
tirely for  the  dishonor  done  to  another,  was 
unlike  her  former  selfish  tears.  "  How  have 
they  dared  to  imprison  my  noble  brother!" 
Then,  turning  swiftly  towards  the  house, 
she  added,  "  Wait!  There  is  a  locksmith 
near  by  whom  I  know.  I  will  have  him  open 
this  door,  and  see  for  myself  what  is 
within." 

She  was  off  on  swift  feet,  for  anxiety  lent 
her  wings  and  lost  her  all  sense  of  weakness, 
and  the  women  stood  looking  after  her,  their 
sun-browned  faces  full  of  consternation  and 
pity.  Very  soon  she  appeared  once  more, 
accompanied  by  a  man  whose  loose  tunic 
was  gathered  up  in  a  bag-form  and  thrust 
beneath  his  girdle  to  hold  a  lot  of  small 
jingling  tools.  As  soon  as  the  door  was  open 
Salome  rushed  inside,  followed  by  the  whole 
group,  whose  curiosity  would  not  be  balked 
by  any  sense  of  delicacy. 

Salome,  running  on  ahead,  was  confronted 
only  by  the  silent  rooms,  and  suddenly  her 
heart  failed-  her.  She  turned  back  and 
grasped  Elizabeth's  hand,  her  own  coVd  as 
ice.  "  Come  with  me,"  she  whispered.  "  I 
am  afraid  of  what  I  may  see.  Oh,  pray  to 
your  Christ  to  spare  me  now!" 

"  He  is  with  us  even  here,"  whispered  the 
Christian  woman,  her  face  growing  bright 
with  inner  radiance.  "  He  knows  your 
grief,  dear,  and  will  give  you  strength  to 
bear  it." 

Salome  looked  at  her  and  caught  some- 
thing of  her  divine  faith.  She  ceased  to 
tremble,  a  warmer  rush  of  blood  set  her 
heart  to  more  natural  beating,  and.  stilled  to 
endurance,  she  led  her  companion  forward. 

After  all  there  was  nothing  to  see.  It  was 
at  once  apparent  that  no  one  had  occupied 
these  rooms  since  the  strange  night  of  so 
many  happenings.  The  table,  but  half 
cleared  of  that  late  supper,  was  now  given 
over  to  flies  and  odors,  and  upon  the  stone 
floor  of  the  apartment,  where  Salome  had 
been  lying  when  Hector  came  in.  a  yellowed 
rose,  which  her  friend  had  dropped  upon  her 
afternoon  visit,  lay  crumbled  into  dust. 


14 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPI. 


Could  it  be  she  had  ever  thought  herself 
unhappy  here?  In  the  shadow  of  these 
darker  griefs  those  seemed  but  summer 
clouds,  almost  transparent  to  the  glory  be- 
hind. 

As  she  looked  around  her  she  gave  a  sob 
and  turned  to  Elizabeth,  who  seemed  at  that 
moment  her  only  friend. 

"  What  shall  I  do?  Where  shall  I  go?"  she 
cried  bitterly.  "  The  gods  of  my  fathers 
have  abandoned  me." 

"  The  blessed  Christ,  who  is  yours  as  well 
as  mine,  Salome,  will  never  leave  us  nor  for- 
sake us.  Come  to  Him,  poor  tired  heart,  and 
come  with  me.  Until  your  brother  is  found 
you  shall  share  my  home." 

"  But  you  are  not  rich,"  objected  Salome, 
"  and  I  am  a  useless  girl." 

"  You  need  not  be.  You  shall  help  me  with 
the  basket-weaving,  and  we  who  follow 
Christ  always  share  with  each  other.  Be 
one  of  us  in  every  way,  and  you  shall  not 
want." 

They  were  quite  alone  by  this  time,  the 
others  having  fully  satisfied  their  curiosity 
and  returned  to  their  neglected  tasks. 
Salome  stood  in  thoughtful  silence  a  mo- 
ment. 

"  Does  this  mean  I  must  abandon  all  hope 
of  finding  my  brothers?"  she  asked. 

"  No,  I  trust  not.  My  husband,  Junius, 
sometimes  has  opportunities  to  learn  who 
are  in  the  prison,  though  the  keeper  has  no 
right  to  tell.  Let  us  go  to  the  market-place 
and  see  if  we  can  find  him  there." 

It  seemed  indeed  the  only  thing  to  do. 
With  quivering  lips  Salome  turned  away 
from  the  deserted  place  which  had  once  been 
warm  with  the  feeling  of  love  and  home,  but 
was  now  like  the  tomb  of  hopes  departed, 
and  sadly  followed  her  guide  into  the  street. 
The  locksmith,  who  had  stopped  for  a  chat 
with  one  of  the  men  living  near,  responded 
to  her  signal  to  come  and  fasten  up  the  gate 
once  more,  and  paying  him  out  of  the  few 
silver  pieces  she  had  in  her  possession,  the 
two  women  at  length  left  the  now  gloomy 
precinct,  to  turn  into  a  wider  street  beyond, 
leading  directly  to  the  forum,  or  market- 
place. 

Like  the  more  imposing  forum  of  Rome, 
this  was  built  in  the  shape  of  a  parallelo- 
gram, the  stone  wall  surrounding  it  being 
fashioned  into  massive  arches.  Within  the 
unroofed  space  were  the  booths  of  the  mar- 
ket gardeners,  the  shambles  of  the  butchers 
and  the  pretty  stalls  of  the  flower-and-herb 
sellers.  Near  the  center  was  a  raised  dais 


for  public  speakers,  often  occupied  by  travel- 
ing showmen  or  jugglers,  surrounded  by 
stone  benches  always  plentifully  filled  wTith 
loungers  and  lookers-on.  At  one  end  was  the 
court  of  justice,  roofed  with  tent-cloth,  with 
a  raised  divan  for  the  judges'  seats,  and  be- 
yond it,  well  walled  and  with  gates  of 
bronze,  was  the  prison  court,  beneath  which 
were  the  dungeons  and  off  from  which  were 
the  keeper's  living  apartments.  At  the 
further  end  of  the  forum  were  the  religious 
houses — namely,  the  various  temples,  the 
homes  of  the  priests,  the  blocks  of  sacrifice 
and  the  votive  offerings.  In  close  connec- 
tion, though  outside  its  many  arches,  were 
the  palaces  of  the  Duumvirs,  the  two 
mayors  of  Philippi,  who  received  their 
authority  direct  from  Rome,  and  were  al- 
most kingly  in  their  pride  and  state. 

Thus  in  this  great  oblong  space  centered 
all  the  civil  and  religious  life  of  the  city,  to 
say  nothing  of  its  business.  Here  honest 
traders  bought  and  sold;  here  dishonest 
magicians,  fakirs  and  sorcerers  plied  their 
low  arts,  and  sought  to  draw  the  idle  crowd; 
here  rich  brokers  in  purple  togas  talked  of 
finance,  or  borrowed  and  lent  their  money; 
here  poets  sang  their  songs,  and  philosophers 
told  their  new  systems  of  belief  which  were 
to  revolutionize  the  world;  here  beggars  dis- 
played their  sores;  here  the  camel-trains 
from  Damascus  halted  with  their  rich  goods, 
while  the  air  was  filled  with  spices  as  they 
rested,  and  bits  of  gold  stuffs  gleamed  from 
their  wrappings;  here  were  gold- workers 
from  Thessaly,  silversmiths  from  Ephesus, 
and  dyers  from  Thyatira.  Among  these 
last  there  was  great  emulation  to  see  how 
many  shades  of  purple  or  crimson  each  could 
show,  without  trenching  upon  the  sixteen 
shades  reserved  for  royalty,  and  one  who 
commanded  great  admiration  for  her  ex- 
qxiisite  tints  was,  as  Elizabeth  informed 
Salome,  a  friend  of  her  own,  and  a  woman. 

As  the  two  approached  this  great  hive  of 
industry  to-day  they  saw  it,  as  usual,  teem- 
ing with  a  lively  crowd  of  every  nationality, 
while  its  babel  of  cries,  laughter,  and  loud- 
voiced  gabble  came  to  their  ears  long  before 
they  reached  its  first  open  archway.  Just 
as  they  entered  this  a  large  group  appeared, 
surrounding  some  figure  off  at  the  right, 
whose  child-like  voice,  strained  to  an  un- 
natural pitch,  was  chanting  out  long  sen- 
tences with  the  measured  cadence  of  an 
oracle  in  the  temple.  These  sometimes  called 
forth  laughter,  again  sudden  silences, 
thrilled  with  shudders  of  dread. 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPI. 


15 


The  voice  was  a  girl's,  and  pressing  closer 
to  her  companion  Salome  whispered: 

"  Oh,  who  is  it?  I  had  just  a  glimpse  of 
her  through  the  crowd,  and  she  seems  no 
older  than  I!  But  she  looked  so  strange! 
Her  eyes  were  glassy  and  set,  and  her  black 
hair  tossed  about  in  wild  disorder.  Who  can 
she  be?" 

"  A  poor  slave  girl,"  returned  Elizabeth  in 
a  low  voice,  hastening  her  steps.  "  Let  us 
not  get  into  the  crowd.  Her  masters  call 
her  a  prophetess,  and  say  she  is  possessed 
by  Python,  the  serpent  of  Apollo;  but  alas! 
I  fear  it  is  only  an  evil  spirit  that  holds  her 
mind  in  subjection.  What  brutal-looking 
men  those  are  who  own  her!  I  have  heard 
they  make  several  denarii  a  day  from  her 
utterances— poor  degraded  creature!" 

Salome  turned  upon  her  quickly.  "  What! 
When  she  is  instructed  by  the  sacred 
Python?  Surely  you  do  not  understand, 
Elizabeth." 

The  latter's  sweet  lips  curled  with  scorn. 
"  Does  your  god,  Apollo,  think  it  then  a 
noble  thing  to  inspire  a  half-crazed  girl  to 
make  a  spectacle  of  herself,  that  her  brutal 
masters  may  carouse  upon  her  gains? 
Surely  I  would  worship  a  purer,  higher 
Deity  than  that!" 

Salome  looked  astonished  at  her  expres- 
sion, but  had  no  answer  ready  for  her  argu- 
ment. Like  most  of  her  sex  and  rank,  she 
knew  little  of  her  own  mythology,  outside 
the  customary  rites  and  ceremonies,  so  she 
could  not  reply  to  the  higher  learning  and 
better  sense  of  this  well-instructed  Chris- 
tian. 


CHAPTER  V. 

MARKET-DAY  IN  PHILIPPI. 

THEY  hurried  to  the  other  side  where 
were  the  buildings  devoted  to  justice, 
and  here  they  timidly  stood  about  for 
some  time,  hoping  to  catch  a  glimpse  of 
Junius,  or  to  see  some  one  of  whom  they 
could  make  inquiries  as  to  his  whereabouts. 
His  wife  knew  he  was  not  apt  to  be  out 
with  his  chain  gang  of  street  workers  at 
this  hour,  it  being  near  the  close  of  the 
afternoon,  but  it  would  not  have  been 
seemly  for  these  veiled  women  to  address 
upon  the  street  any  man  who  was  not  a  near 
relative.  They  fortunately,  however,  came 
upon  Nadab,  who,  with  a  beaming  face,  was 
minding  a  fruit  stall  while  its  owner  was 


off  on  some  errand,  and  who  greeted  his 
mother's  well-known  figure  with  a  boyish 
shout  of  pleasure. 

"Ah!  mother,"  he  exclaimed  joyously, 
"  you  see  I  am  selling  fruit  for  /Ebulus,  and 
he  is  to  give  me  a  penny  if  I  sell  anything, 
and  a  quadrans  if  I  do  not.  Do  buy  sonic 
dates  for  supper!" 

"  Indeed  I  shall  have  to!"  laughed  his 
mother,  pleased  at  her  boy's  pleasure;  "  and 
meanwhile  you  run  on  swift  feet  and  find 
yoiir  father  while  we  in  turn  mind  your  stall. 
Do  you  know  where  he  is?" 

"  Yes,  indeed!  See,  he  is  over  there  by  the 
wine-stall  talking  with  two  Romans  from 
the  Caetle.  Look!  He  is  just  raising  the 
gourd  to  his  lips." 

Elizabeth  looked,  and  a  shadow  fell  upon 
her  placid  brow. 

"  Go,  call  him  to  come  to  me,"  she  said 
gently. 

Nadab  went  on  the  run,  and  the  two 
women,  watching,  saw  that  Junius  turned 
somewhat  impatiently  as  the  boy  caught  at 
his  tunic,  and  motioned  him  away.  But 
Nadab  persisted,  and  after  listening  to  him 
a  moment,  the  father  at  length  put  down 
his  empty  gourd  and  reluctantly  followed. 

"Well?"  He  greeted  his  wife  churlishly, 
as  he  approached  with  a  stiff  and  dignified 
air.  "  What  would  you  with  me?" 

"  Junius,"  she  returned,  dropping  her  veil  a 
trifle  that  she  might  smile  up  into  his  rugged 
face,  "  I  would  not  have  disturbed  you,  but 
this  poor  damsel  has  lost  all  track  of  her 
brother,  and  the  neighbors  think  he  has  been 
arrested  and  flung  into  prison.  Could  you 
find  out  for  her  what  prisoners  are  now  in 
the  dungeons?" 

He  gave  a  short,  hard  laugh.  "  How  little 
women  know!  The  only  prisoners  I  have  to 
do  with  are  those  of  the  chain  gang.  I  am 
not  a  jailer,  but  a  keeper  of  the  streets." 

"  I  know."  Elizabeth's  voice  was  quite 
unruffled.  "  Yet  you  are  such  friends  with 
all  these  men  in  power,  that  I  felt  sure  you 
would  have  some  way  of  finding  out  this 
matter,  if  you  chose." 

The  implied  compliment  pleased  the  man. 
Nothing  so  delights  a  petty  tyrant  as  to  feol 
that  his  women-folk  think  him  of  great  in- 
fluence in  the  community. 

"  Oh,  I  could,  to  be  sure,"  he  returned 
pompously,  "  only  you  know  how  it  is  with 
prisoners  of  the  lower  ranks— they  are  put 
down  deep!"  chuckling  amusedly.  "  Most 
likely,  though,  they  will  have  him  in  my 
gang  beiore  long." 


18 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHIL1PPL 


cried  wistfully,  and  passing  quickly  indoors, 
shut  herself  away  in  her  bit  of  a  room. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

LYDIA'S  VISIT. 

IT  transpired  that  the  woman  who  had 
talked  with  Elizabeth  at  the  meeting 
was  the  one  whom  she  had  mentioned  as 
a  successful  dyer,  with  a  good  business  of 
her  own.  She  had  formerly  lived  at 
Thyatira,  where  she  belonged  to  the  ancient 
guild  of  dyers,  but  her  business  had  grown 
until  she  felt  it  best  to  come  to  the  larger 
town  of  Philippi. 

She  had  a  comfortable  home,  and  her  em- 
ploy§s  were  mostly  slaves,  quartered  upon 
her  own  premises.  She  had  made  a  specialty 
of  dyeing  in  purple,  having  succeeded  in 
producing  some  new  tints  that  were  much 
admired,  and  was  a  thoroughly  successful 
woman.  But  she  had  her  griefs  and  troubles, 
and  she  never  ceased  to  mourn  the  loss  of  a 
husband  who  had  been  very  dear  to  her. 
Her  reputation  for  good  works  was  of  the 
best,  but  she  was  slightly  exclusive  in  her 
friendships,  and,  some  thought,  felt  her 
consequence  more  than  was  agreeable. 
Elizabeth  was  not  of  those  who  said  so. 
Between  her  and  the  good  woman  was  a 
strong  attachment,  and  she  knew  that  often 
a  certain  air  of  hauteur  in  Lydia  was  sim- 
ply a  shutting  of  herself  away  in  closer  com- 
munion with  her  own  heart.  Elizabeth  loved 
and  respected  her,  and  the  sad,  successful 
woman  often  sought  the  joyful,  unsuccessful 
one  to  pour  out  her  griefs  and  troubles,  and 
to  receive  of  that  sweet  faith  and  peace 
which  made  the  other  so  blessed.  What 
Elizabeth  had  said  of  Stephen — or  more 
properly  the  tone  in  which  she  had  said  it- 
stayed  by  Lydia  all  that  evening,  and  made 
her  resolve  that  she  would  try  to  hear  the 
new  Apostles  who  were  soon  coming.  Being 
a  Pharisee  of  the  strictest  sect,  she  found 
it  difficult  to  believe  that  any  Messiah  could 
be  other  than  a  great  King  and  Deliverer, 
who  would  restore  Jerusalem,  and  make  the 
Jewish  nation  once  more  a  power  among 
men. 

In  all  these  respects  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
had  seemed  to  fail.  Yet,  when  Lydia's  sweet- 
faced  friend  talked  to  her  of  His  greater 
mission  to  elevate  and  save  all  men,  be  they 
of  whatever  nation,  and  to  establish  a  king- 


dom "  not  made  with  hands,"  certainly,  yet 
"  eternal  in  the  heavens,"  it  appealed  to 
something  high  and  pure  in  her  own  nature, 
though  it  could  not  quite  bring  her  into  full 
accord  with  Him. 

She  felt  restless  the  next  day,  however, 
and  suddenly  resolved  to  go  to  Elizabeth 
and  ask  her  to  relate  the  story  of  Stephen's 
death,  and  explain  why  it  had  affected  her 
so  deeply.  So  she  left  her  shop  in  the  care 
of  a  trusted  overseer,  took  a  last  look  at  her 
bubbling  vats,  each  stirred  continuously  by 
a  nearly  naked  slave,  then  started  to  cross 
the  forum  toward  the  same  gate  at  which 
our  two  friends  had  entered  the  day  before. 
It  was  not  so  crowded  now,  this  not  being 
a  regular  market-day,  but  within  the  gate 
was  quite  a  concourse  of  people  around  a 
young  girl,  who  seemed  chanting  something 
in  imitation  of  the  oracles  in  the  temple, 
while  her  evil-looking  companions  greedily 
gathered  up  the  mites  and  quadrans  that 
were  thrown  into  their  uplifted  tunics  by 
the  astonished  listeners  to  whom  she  had 
promised  some  exceptional  fortune. 

Presently,  as  Lydia  lingered,  curiously 
watching  the  proceedings,  she  saw,  crossing 
the  forum,  two  men  whose  dress  showed 
them  to  be  traveling  Jews.  They  carried 
themselves  with  a  certain  free  dignity  which 
at  once  attracted  the  noble  woman,  and  she 
observed  upon  their  enkindled  countenances 
that  same  serenity  which  had  always  at- 
tracted her  in  Elizabeth.  The  older  of  the 
two  men  held  her  gaze  longest.  He  was  not 
tall,  though  his  dignified  presence  made  him 
seem  so,  but  his  brow  was  broad  and  clear, 
and  the  eyes  below  were  keen,  bright, 
searching,  and  above  all  kindly.  As  they 
turned  casually  upon  her  for  an  instant,  they 
seemed  to  flash  new  life  and  hope  into  her 
heart. 

"  Who  can  they  be?"  thought  she,  and  al- 
most with  the  question  came  its  answer: 
"They  must  be- the  expected  Apostles!'' 
Still  more  eagerly,  then,  she  watched  them. 
As  they  approached  the  slave  girl  she,  too, 
stopped  her  chanting  and  turned  towards 
them.  Her  eyes  were  set  in  the  glassy  stare 
of  a  sleep-walker,  and  her  hands  were 
clinched  nervously  at  her  sides.  She  stood 
quite  still,  the  people  about  watching  her  in- 
tently, while  the  two  strangers  passed  by  in 
such  earnest  conversation  that  they  did  not 
seem  to  notice  the  excitement  in  the  least. 
All  at  once  her  face  flushed  warmly,  and  a 
new  light  came  into  her  eyes.  Wheeling 
quickly,  she  followed  after  and  began  to  cry 


THE   WEESTLER  OF  PIT  I  LI  PPL 


19 


aloud,  but  not  in  her  high-pitched  sing-song 
—rather  in  the  sincere  accent  of  assured  be- 
lief: 
"  These  men  are  the  servants  of  the  Most 


ignorant  of  great  religious  truths  as  she 
must  be?  No  wonder  everyone  looked  after 
her  with  astonishment,  and  followed  to  see 
what  she  would  do,  or  say,  next.  But  the 
men  whom  she  had  thus  designated  kept 
upon  their  way,  taking  little  note  of  the  mat- 
ter, apparently.  Lydia,  debating  all  this  in 
her  mind,  started  on  at  a  rapid  gait,  which 
brought  her  abreast  of  the  girl's  two  mas- 
ters, who  had  so  suddenly  found  their  occu- 


"Who  can  they  be?"  thought  she;  and  almost  with  the  question  came  the  answer, 
"They  must  be  the  expected  Apostles."— See  page  18. 


High  God,  who  show  unto  us  the  way  of  sal- 
vation." 

The  words  thrilled  Lydia.  How  did  this 
pagan  know,  if  indeed  she  spoke  the  truth? 
Who  had  revealed  it  to  a  poor  demented  girl, 


pation  gone.  They  were  scowling  fiercely 
after  the  girl,  yet  seemed  held  back  by  some 
impulse  stronger  than  their  greed  of  gain. 
They  did  not  beg  of  the.se  she  had  so 
strangely  singled  out;  they  rather  slunk  back 


20 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPI. 


as  If  to  avoid  them,  though  evidently  all 
their  evil  passions  were  roused  at  having 
their  dupes  so  summarily  dispersed  by  this 
singular  interruption.  Lydia  threw  them 
but  a  glance,  then  hurried  out  and  up  the 
street,  to  her  friend's. 

She  found  the  Christian  woman  sitting  in 
the  shade  in  her  little  court,  busy  with  her 
weaving.  She  greeted  Lydia  with  cordiality, 
calling  her  to  a  seat  on  the  mat  at  her  side, 
and  presently  Salome  appeared  from  an 
inner  room,  carrying  another  bundle  of  damp 
osiers  for  which  she  had  just  been  sent,  and 
with  which  she  joined  the  two.  Lydia  began 
by  relating  the  incident  of  the  morning, 
which  Salome  heard  with  eyes  grown  large 
and  wondering. 

"  Surely,"  she  remarked,  "  it  must  be  true 
if  the  soothsayer  has  declared  it." 

Elizabeth  laughed  in  her  sensible  fashion. 
"  It  is  true,"  she  said,  "  but  not  because  this 
possessed  girl  says  it.  No  doubt,  though, 
even  the  evil  spirits  recognize  God's  elect- 
but  who  could  fail  to  note  that  these  men 
are  better  and  higher  than  most?  I,  too, 
saw  them  this  morning,  Lydia,  when  I  was 
at  the  market.  Does  not  the  love  of  Christ 
shine  from  their  souls  through  their  faces? 
They  reminded  me  of  Stephen,"  she  added 
softly. 

"  Stephen?  He  is  the  very  one  I  came  to 
ask  about.  You  mentioned  him  so  reverently 
the  other  day  that  I  long  to  hear  all  about 
him.  Was  he  not  stoned  because  of  this  new 
faith?" 

Elizabeth  nodded,  then  said  in  a  far-away 
tone:  "  I  was  young,  but  I  have  never  for- 
gotten it.  Such  eloquence,  such  sweetness, 
one  can  hope  to  hear  but  once!  That  day  I 
was  with  my  father  in  the  market-place 
when  some  excited  men  of  his  acquaintance 
came  along  and  touched  his  shoulder,  saying, 
'  Come,  quick,  to  the  council  chamber!  They 
have  arrested  a  man  of  Christ  and  are  going 
to  try  him  for  blasphemy.' 

"  Now,  my  mother  had  been  greatly  inter- 
ested in  the  new  doctrines,  and  was  anxious 
to  hear  and  see  all  she  could  of  the  followers 
of  Christ.  This,  however,  my  father  had  op- 
posed up  to  that  time,  and  as  she  was  obedi- 
ent and  true,  she  had  said  little,  while  per- 
haps thinking  the  more.  So,  this  day,  father 
laughed  lightly  as  the  men  called  him,  say- 
ing, 'What!  Has  another  king  of  the  Jews 
arisen?'  and  started  after  them,  entirely  for- 
getting me.  But,  child-fashion,  I  followed 
close  at  his  heels.  We  pressed  as  near  as 
possible  to  the  judges'  seats,  where  the  San- 


hedrim was  convened,  and  my  father,  sud- 
denly perceiving  me,  began  to  chide  me  for 
following;  but  when  I  begged  and  cried, 
saying  I  was  afraid  to  go  back  through  the 
crowd  alone,  he  laughed  good-naturedly,  and 
bade  me  be  quiet  then,  kindly  lifting  me  to 
a  jutting  bit  of  stonework  close  by  the  steps, 
that  I  might  see  better. 

"  There  was  a  man  standing  in  the  prison- 
er's place,  talking,  and  young  as  I  was,  I 
listened  to  every  word,  for  I  thought  I  had 
never  heard  the  story  of  our  nation  told  so 
plainly  and  so  well,  even  by  my  mother's 
tender  lips.  Besides,  the  man's  voice  and 
presence  were  full  of  power  and  spirit.  His 
eyes  kindled  with  enthusiasm,  his  lips  grew 
sweet  with  love  and  pity,  and  though  he  said 
some  severe  words  to  the  scowling  rabbis 
glowering  upon  him,  his  own  countenance 
was  so  lighted  by  love  to  the  Christ  that  it 
shone  like  the  face  of  an  angel. 

"  As  he  closed  with  words  that  accused  the 
priests  of  killing  the  prophets  and  rejecting 
God's  Holy  Spirit,  they  grew  so  angry  that 
they  gnashed  their  teeth  and  snarled  at  him 
like  a  pack  of  unclean  dogs;  yet  still  he 
stood  there  in  perfect  peace,  calm,  smiling, 
serene  as  a  messenger  from  heaven. 

"  I  remember  how  my  father's  arm  gripped 
me  as  he  held  me  on  the  stone  balustrade, 
and  how  his  face  worked  with  admiration 
and  doubt.  For  my  father  was  a  strict 
Pharisee  and  had  come  here  in  perfect  sym- 
pathy with  the  Sanhedrim,  yet  he  could  not 
listen  to  these  words,  spoken  with  such 
serene  conviction  and  heavenly  wrisdom, 
without  being  impressed.  Even  I,  a  child, 
felt  tears  rolling  down  my  cheeks,  and  I 
longed  to  cry  out  to  the  angry  Doctors  of 
the  Law  to  wait  and  listen,  for  there  could 
be  no  wrong  in  this  man. 

"  Even  at  that  moment,  while  the  tumult 
about  him  was  loudest,  I  saw  him  raise  his 
eyes  heavenward,  where  the  canvas  roof 
was  rolled  back,  'and  fix  his  gaze  on  the  deep 
blue  sky.  A  great  and  glorious  light  came 
into  his  face,  he  reached  up  his  right  hand, 
and  cried  in  a  voice  that  thrilled  me  through 
and  through: 

"'Benold!  I  see  the  heavens  opened,  and 
Jesus  standing  on  the  right  hand  of  God.' 

"  Instinctively  I,  too,  gazed  up,  as  did  all 
that  multitude  who  had  been  gathering 
through  the  long  discourse,  and  it  has  al- 
ways seemed  to  me  that  through  the  deep, 
clear  blue  I  also  could  faintly  see  forms  of 
light  and  whiteness  floating  in  gloi-y.  But 
who  can  tell?  The  imaginings  of  the  young 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  FIJI  LI  PPL 


21 


are  great,  and  surely  such  a  wondrous  vision 
would  not  be  granted  to  a  simple  child. 

"  Certainly  those  rabbis  saw  nothing,  for 
in  their  anger  they  began  a  tumult  so  out- 
rageous that  I  stopped  my  ears,  and  cowered 
close  to  my  father  in  terror.  And  then— oh! 
then  I  saw  them  fall  upon  the  speaker, 
fairly  struggling  with  each  other  in  their 
haste  to  seize  him  and  drag  him  away.  He 
made  no  resistance,  nor  answered  a  word  to 
their  curses  and  imprecations,  but  as  they 
surged  by  us  I  peeped  out  from  behind  my 
father  and  caught  one  more  glimpse  of 
Stephen's  face — pale,  still,  and  peaceful,  not 
at  all  as  if  he  were  in  the  grasp  of  a  furious 
mob  bent  on  his  destruction. 

"  Then  father  caught  me  up  in  his  arms, 
muttering,  '  What  are  they  going  to  do? 
Will  they  kill  that  just  man?'  and  ran  after 
as  fast  as  he  could  go.  It  was  to  the  place  of 
execution  in  the  ravine  of  Joshaphat,  just 
without  the  gates,  that  they  hustled  him  by 
a  short  way  back  of  the  Temple,  and  we  had 
to  take  a  longer  way  around.  All  the  crowd 
went  with  us.  Some  cried,  '  Stone  the  blas- 
phemer—stone him!'  and  others  urged, 
'  Wait!  wait!  Let  him  have  a  word  for  him- 
self. He  has  done  nothing  worthy  of  death!' 
And  among  the  latter  I  was  glad  to  hear  my 
father's  lusty  voice,  for  my  whole  child's 
heart  had  gone  out  to  this  '  just  man,'  as 
father  rightly  named  him. 

"  When  we  reached  the  ravine  we  saw 
they  had  already  thrown  him  from  the  wall, 
as  was  the  custom  when  a  man  was  con- 
demned to  be  stoned  to  death.  But  the  fall 
had  not  mercifully  killed  him,  as  it  some- 
times did;  and  already  the  fiercest  of  his  ac- 
cusers were  throwing  off  their  abbas,  and 
piling  them  in  a  heap  at  the  feet  of  a  young 
man  whom  I  scarcely  noticed  then,  I  was 
so  intent  on  the  martyr;  but  now  I  know  it 
was— who  do  you  think,  Lydia?  The  very 
Paul  you  and  I  saw  this  morning." 

"Ah!"  cried  the  other.  "It  is  passing 
strange.  But  go  on— they  threw  off  their 
upper  garments,  you  say—" 

"  Yes.  His  adverse  witnesses,  you  under- 
stand, for  they  were  privileged  to  cast  the 
first  stone.  Each  sought  out  the  largest  he 
could  find — oh!  friends,  one  bore  a  red  stain 
already,  as  if  it  had  been  an  instrument  of 
death  in  that  dreadful  place  before— and 
though  I  shrank  and  hid  my  eyes,  I  had  to 
look  again,  and  then  my  gaze  seemed  riveted 
upon  that  man  in  the  midst,  fallen,  bruised, 
torn,  and  despised,  yet  who  still  bore  in  his 
face  the  look  of  a  conqueror. 


"  For  even  as  I  gazed  he  feebly  raised  him- 
self to  his  knees  and  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the 
sky  above,  which  was  not  more  peaceful 
than  his  own  expression  then.  I  thought  he 
had  forgotten  us  all  and  had  thoughts  only 
for  the  Holy  One  he  loved  and  was  dying 
for,  but  that  was  all  I  knew.  Because  he 
did  love  the  blessed  Christ  he  must  have 
had  thoughts  for  all  of  us.  One  cry  he  gave 
for  his  own  soul,  '  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my 
spirit!'  then,  as  the  stones  began  to  hail 
about  and  upon  him,  he  looked  with  love 
even  upon  his  tormentors,  and  cried  aloud 
in  a  voice  so  sweet  that  it  thrills  me  yet: 

"  '  Lord,  lay  not  this  sin  to  their  charge.' 

"Oh,  the  wonder  of  it!  the  wonder  of  it, 
Lydia!  He  could  forgive  those  murderers 
in  his  dying  agony!  I  had  heard  that  this 
was  true  of  Christ  and  had  felt  that  He  was 
God,  or  life  could  not  have  done  it.  Now  I 
saw  that  for  love  of  Him  a  poor  weak  man 
might  die  like  Himself. 

"  As  the  words  ended,  a  great  stone 
crashed  against  Stephen's  breast,  and  he 
sank  gently  back  and  seemetl  to  fall  asleep, 
with  a  smile  like  that  of  a  child  in  its 
mother's  arms.  And  as  we  looked  on,  al- 
most wistfully,  at  one  who  had  overcome 
death  with  faith,  a  man  close  by  whispered 
solemnly,  '  He  sleeps  in  Jesus.' 

"  I  did  not  fully  understand  his  meaning, 
but  my  father  reverently  bowed  his  head  in 
prayer,  and  I  did  likewise. 

"  Even  those  fierce  rabbis  grew  still,  and 
moved  away  in  sullen  self-disgust.  Then 
father  turned  to  the  whisperer  and  asked 
hoarsely,  '  Whp  was  this  man?'  'Stephen,' 
answered  the  other,  lingering  on  the  sylla- 
bles as  if  he  loved  them.  Father  gazed  at 
him.  '  The  word  means  a  crown,'  he  said  in 
a  reverent  tone.  '  Yes,'  was  the  reply.  '  His 
is  the  martyr's  crown,  most  glorious  of  all.' 
And  father  nodded,  consentingly. 

"  Still  holding  me  close,  father  then  turned 
homeward  in  silence,  and  when  there  told 
my  mother  all,  while  great  tears  ran  down 
his  rough  brown  cheeks.  Ah!  how  I  loved 
him  then!  Nothing  makes  a  father  so  dear 
to  a  child  as  the  display  of  deep  and  pure 
emotion.  I  could  not  let  go  his  hand,  and, 
taking  my  mother's  also,  he  said  earnestly, 
'  I  can  no  longer  doubt  that  Jesus  of  Naz- 
areth was  the  promised  Deliverer.'  So  the 
day  of  Stephen's  glorious  death  was  the  be- 
ginning of  our  new  life." 

She  stopped,  half  choked  with  emotion, 
while  both  Salome's  and  Lydia's  tears  flowed 
freely.  The  woman  was  thinking,  "  If  these 


22 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIP  PL 


things  be  so,  is  not  this  Jesus  indeed  the 
Messiah?"  while  the  pagan  girl  mused: 

"  Our  gods  do  not  make  their  followers 
like  this.  Surely  this  is  the  strangest  of 
all  religions,  yet  the  most  beautiful,  too. 
And  I  have  feared  Herklas  was  drawn  away 
by  the  Christians!  Now  I  could  almost  wish 
he  had  been!" 


CHAPTER  VII. 

LIGHT  IN  THE  DUNGEON. 

A  DAY  or  two  later  was  the  Sabbath, 
and  Salome,  whose  interest  was  thor- 
oughly aroused,  gladly  accompanied 
her  hostess  to  the  river-side  synagogue,  hop- 
ing to  hear  and  see  something  more  of  this 
n/ew  faith.  Nor  was  she  disappointed.  Paul 
and  Silas  were  both  there,  and,  being  courte- 
ously treated,  sat  among  the  rabbis,  and 
were  requested  to  address  the  assembly. 
This  was  a  small  one,  mostly  women,  and 
they  heard  the  good  message  which  was 
presented  with  eloquence  and  power,  as  a 
call  from  God  to  "  come  up  higher." 

Elizabeth,  strengthened  and  confirmed  in 
faith,  listened  with  a  shining  countenance; 
Salome  with  eager,  wide-open  eyes,  wonder- 
ing, hoping,  yet  still  half  doubting  because 
it  seemed  too  good  to  believe;  and  Lydia 
with  powerful  conviction  and  trust.  But  the 
Greek  girl  was  almost  as  glad  as  Elizabeth, 
herself,  to  see  this  proud,  yet  sincere,  woman 
rise  modestly  in  her  place  to  profess  belief 
in  this  beautiful  doctrine,  and  to  ask  baptism 
for  herself  and  household.  The  little  con- 
gregation had  partly  dispersed,  afterwards, 
when  Lydia  came  towards  them,  her  head 
bowed  in  thoughtful  humility.  Elizabeth 
stepped  quickly  to  her  side,  saying  in  a  glad 
voice: 

"  Dear  sister  Lydia,  welcome!  T  am  so 
glad— so  glad!" 

Lydia  took  her  hand  and  pressed  it.  Her 
eyes  were  moist  with  tears  and  her  lips 
tremulous. 

"  Not  so  glad  as  I !"  she  whispered  back. 
"  Nobody  can  tell  the  peace  and  joy  I  feel." 

"  Will  you  not  come  home  with  us  and  talk 
more  of  this?"  asked  Elizabeth,  much  moved. 

"  I  would,  but  I  am  waiting  for  these  good 
men.  They  have  promised  to  honor  me  by 
lodging  at  my  house  while  they  remain  here. 
I  will  see  you  soon,  however." 

She  left  them,  but,  lingering  to  watch  her, 
they  soon  saw  her  start  towards  her  pleas- 


ant home  with  the  two  Apostles,  and  Eliza- 
beth turned  to  Salome  with  the  words: 

"  I  am  glad  they  will  be  so  comfortably 
housed.  They  looked  weary  this  morning, 
and  indeed  their  lives  are  very  often  hard 
and  fatiguing." 

"  Have  they  ever  suffered  persecution?" 
asked  the  girl. 

"  Oh,  many  and  many  a  time.  Paul  has 
been  even  stoned,  like  Stephen,  and  left  for 
dead,  though  in  fact  he  was  only  senseless 
for  a  while;  and  from  many  places  they  have 
had  to  flee  because  of  their  persecutors." 

"  Yet  they  never  think  of  giving  it  all  up 
and  settling  down  to  a  quiet  life?" 

Elizabeth  looked  at  her  with  a  singular  ex- 
pression. "  You  do  not  understand,"  she 
said.  "  When  your  heart  has  opened  to  the 
truth  you  will  not  ask  such  a  question." 

"  But  does  your  God  command  these 
things,  Elizabeth?  We  believe  our  gods  like 
us  to  enjoy,  and  escape  hardships  if  possible. 
All  they  ask  of  us  is  to  give  them  due  honor 
and  listen  to  the  oracles." 

"  Then  why  do  hardships  come?"  asked  the 
older  woman  quickly.  "  Are  not  your  gods 
powerful  enough  to  make  you  happy,  if  that 
is  their  desire  for  you?" 

Salome  hesitated  for  an  answer,  and  Eliza- 
beth continued  rapidly: 

"  Our  Creator  does  mean  us  to  be  happy, 
and  Christ  came  to  show  us  the  right  way. 
But,  my  child,  happiness  is  a  state  of  mind, 
not  a  possession.  One  who  truly  loves  God 
is  happy  anywhere  if  feeling  His  presence. 
It  is  only  alienation  from  Him  that  is 
wretchedness." 

"  But,  dear  friend,  could  you  be  happy, 
say,  in  prison— in  those  dreadful  dungeons 
that  your  husband  tells  us  of.  where  there 
is  no  light,  and  scarcely  any  air?" 

"  If  Christ  were  with  me — yes." 

"  Ah,  that  is  too  much  to  believe!"  cried 
the  girl  emphatically.  "  They  are  such 
horrible  places— and  there  are  the  tortures 
too!  If  you  had  to  suffer  those?" 

"  I  cannot  tell,"  shuddering  a  little.  "  My 
flesh  creeps  to  think  of  such  things,  but  the 
Christ  will  not  let  me  be  tried  beyond  my 
strength.  I  rest  on  that  assurance,  and  do 
not  worry-  The  one  thing  I  could  not  do 
would  be  to  deny  Him!" 

Salome  glanced  at  her.  They  had  just  en- 
tered the  home  court  and  Elizabeth  had 
dropped  her  veil.  Upon  her  serene  face  was 
a  joyous  smile  of  confidence,  and  in  her  eyes 
an  expression  of  perfect  peace. 

Salome's  young  heart   went  out  towards 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPI. 


23 


her  in  affectionate  appeal.  She  wished, 
whimsically,  that  there  were  some  way  of 
absorbing  from  her  a  little  of  that  lovely 
personality  which  made  her  so  winning  and 
so  enjoyable  to  herself.  The  girl  put  out  her 
hand  and  touched  the  other's  long  robe. 

"  Dear  Elizabeth,"  she  said  wistfully,  "  I 
wish  I  were  like  you!" 

"  Nay,  Salome,"  answered  the  other,  clasp- 
ing the  hand  warmly,  "  rather  wish  you  were 
like  Christ,  the  One  '  altogether  lovely.'  " 

Meanwhile,  poor  Hector  was  learning  more 
of  the  dungeons  that  haunted  his  sister's 
mind,  than  she  could  even  imagine  of  them. 
So  dark  was  the  pit  in  which  he  lay  that  he 
could  scarcely  distinguish  the  bare  walls 
around  him,  and  the  only  alleviation  of  his 
fate  was  the  healthy  power  to  sleep  long 
and  often.  Then,  for  a  time,  he  forgot  his 
sufferings,  and  again  wrestled  in  the  arena, 
strolled  outside  the  gates  by  the  pretty 
brook-sides  with  Herklas  and  Salome,  or 
romped  through  some  game  in  the  court,  a 
little  boy  again. 

When  the  soldiers  delivered  him  over  to 
the  keeper  of  the  prison  he  had  made  one 
more  effort  to  defend  himself,  though  not 
with  fists  this  time.  But  before  he  could 
tell  who  he  was,  and  how  guiltless  of  offence, 
a  sudden  blow  from  the  knotted  scourge 
had  silenced  him. 

"  Hold  your  peace,  fellow!"  cried  the 
keeper  shortly,  as  he  turned  with  an  impre- 
cation. "  It  is  nothing  to  me  whether  you 
are  guilty  or  not.  On  with  you  there!"  and 
he  drove  Hector  before  him  with  the  relent- 
lessness  of  fate.  The  latter  saw  it  was  of  no 
use  to  remonstrate,  but  his  whole  soul  rose 
up  in  rebellion  against  such  undeserved 
treatment,  and  he  could  have  cursed  all 
the  gods  in  turn  when  the  surly  keeper  left 
him  chained  to  the  moldy  stone  floor  of  his 
fetid  cell. 

Hector  was  brave  in  his  own  way,  and  in 
the  arena  dared  to  stand  up  in  the  wrestling 
matches  with  any  one  who  might  be  pitted 
against  him.  But  his  strength  was  phy- 
sical, not  moral,  and  he  had  no  religion,  no 
philosophy  even,  to  sustain  him  now.  For  a 
time  he  howled  with  rage  and  despair,  beat- 
ing his  head  against  the  cruel  stones  until 
its  dull  ache  but  added  to  his  misery,  and 
sent  him  into  a  sort  of  stupor,  which  was 
but  the  sullen  quietude  born  of  despair.  He 
had  no  way  of  counting  time  except  by  the 
intervals  between  his  wretched  meals. 
When  this  interval  was  doubled  he  knew  it 


must  be  night,  when  halved  it  must  be  day, 
and  he  thus  managed  to  keep  a  tolerably 
correct  idea  of  the  flight  of  time. 

In  this  manner  he  calculated  that  the  sixth 
night  had  arrived,  and  was  feeling  indignant 
that  precious  sleep  did  not,  as  usual,  come 
with  it,  when  a  sound  unlike  any  he  had 
heard  here  before  fell  upon  his  ears.  He 
had  been  several  times  aroused  by  the 
clanking  of  heavy  chains  outside  his  door, 
or  by  loud  voices. in  strife  or  ribaldry,  and 
he  had  twice  been  sickened  by  the  shrieks 
of  those  under  torture.  But  this  was  none 
of  these. 

It  was  the  voice  of  music,  peaceful,  joyous, 
and  swelling  from  the  deep  throats  of  men 
who  sang  with  all  the  heart  in  an  absorption 
of  enjoyment.  He  raised  himself  upon  his 
elbow  and  listened  breathlessly.  This  could 
not  be  the  song  of  those  too  far  gone  in 
liquor  to  care  for  their  surroundings!  No, 
these  steady,  sustained  cadences  meant  con- 
trolled joy,  triumphant  worship.  Astonished, 
cheered,  and  longing  to  hear  more,  he  crept 
to  the  thick  door  and  placed  his  ear  close 
against  its  smooth  surface. 

The  singing  came,  evidently,  from  the  next 
cell,  where  he  had  become  convinced  were 
kept  the  stocks  and  other  instruments  of 
torture.  Could  these  men  be  in  those  fiend- 
ish wooden  things  which  held  the  limbs  dis- 
tended and  the  head  and  neck  contracted, 
until  every  muscle  was  like  a  tortured  nerve 
with  its  agony?  It  seemed  incredible!  So 
men  might  burst  out  into  swelling  strains 
on  a  triumphal  march  after  some  great  vic- 
tory. But  what  could  prisoners  in  such  a 
hole  know  of  victory? 

He  soon  assured  himself  that  they  were  in 
the  stocks,  however,  which  were  placed  al- 
most against  his  door,  and  presently  the 
singing  ceased,  and  he  heard  a  voice  speak- 
ing in  the  Greek  tongue,  with  which  he  was 
so  familiar.  Straining  his  attention,  he 
caught  words  of  praise  and  devotion  mingled 
with  supplication,  all  seemingly  addressed 
to  one  great  God  who  was  powerful  over  all 
others. 

"  How  they  believe  in  Him!"  was  Hector's 
thought,  as  he  held  his  breath  to  hear. 
"  How  certain  they  seem  of  His  presence 
and  care!  When  I  call  upon  great  Zeus,  or 
Apollo,  they  are  so  far  away  my  cry  seems 
lost  in  air;  but  these  men  appear  to  think 
their  God  is  with  them  in  this  very  prison." 

Presently  the  tones  sank  to  lower  mur- 
murs, in  which  he  could  distinguish  no 
words.  Disappointed  at  hearing  no  more, 


24 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


and  wearied  with  confinement  and  grief,  he 
finally  sank  into  a  deep  sleep  just  where  he 
was,  his  head  against  the  heavy  door. 

How  long  he  had  slept  he  did  not  know, 
but  he  awoke  instantly  and  completely,  with 
the  knowledge  that  the  door  had  given  way, 
letting  him  fall  outward  into  the  other  cell, 
which  was  heaving,  trembling,  rocking,  and 
cracking  around  him.  Terrified,  he  raised 
himself  amid  the  falling  stones  and  mortar, 
to  find,  with  amazement,  that  he  was  freed 
from  his  shackles,  and  to  see,  in  a  sudden 
glare  of  lightning,  that  the  doors  were  all 
wide  open,  even  that  into  the  outer  court, 
while  the  stars,  half  concealed  by  turbulent 
clouds,  were  shining  in. 

All  around  were  other  prisoners,  their  eyes 
•wild  with  affright,  for  the  building  was 
rocking  to  its  foundations,  and  the  rending 
walls  gave  out  sharp  sounds  with  horrible 
meaning.  All  were  indeed  too  paralyzed  to 
move  for  an  instant,  during  which  the 
keeper,  who  had  been  asleep,  suddenly  ap- 
peared in  the  outer  door,  and  at  one  glance 
saw  that  his  captives  were  all  at  liberty. 
With  a  cry  of  fright  and  despair  he  drew  his 
sword,  not  for  defense  or  punishment,  but 
for  self-destruction.  This  was  the  universal 
resort  of  the  desperate.  The  lack  of  all  jus- 
tice among  those  in  power  led  such  philoso- 
phers as  Seneca,  such  generals  as  Brutus 
and  Cassius,  to  prefer  what  they  believed 
the  oblivion  of  death  to  the  debasements  of 
tyranny. 

But  something  stayed  this  man's  rash 
hand,  and  also  held  back  the  lawless  prison- 
ers, who  might  easily  have  fled— held  even 
Hector,  who  felt  himself  so  unjustly  im- 
prisoned here.  A  voice  cried  loudly  through 
the  gloom: 

"  Do  thyself  no  harm,  for  we  are  all  here!" 

Calling  loudly  for  assistance,  the  keeper 
soon  had  re-inforcements  and  light,  though 
he  did  not  seem  to  have  needed  them.  All 
were  present,  and  the  two  men  still  sat  in 
the  stocks,  though  the  heavy  beams  had 
split  apart  from  the  great  screws  and  left 
them  at  perfect  liberty.  The  keeper,  shak- 
ing with  excitement  and  terror,  now  threw 
himself  before  these  strange  prisoners  and 
cried  in  anguish,  "  What  must  I  do  to  be 
saved?"  He  felt  that  here  was  some  Power 
before  which  his  petty  tyranny  was  impo- 
tent, and  if  the  cry  was  selfish  it  was  cer- 
tainly sincere. 

He  had  always  bowed  before  his  masters, 
and  exacted  every  concession  from  those 
over  whom  he  ruled.  Yet  here  were  two, 


who  had  meekly  submitted  themselves  to 
his  scourgings  and  tortures  since  early  yes- 
terday, whose  power  was  evidently  beyond 
that  of  most  men.  It  must  then  be  from 
some  Being  who  could  control  earthquakes 
to  His  own  purposes.  It  must  be  from  God! 

He  was  ready  to  acknowledge  His  power 
and  to  worship  at  His  feet  He  could  fear 
and  respect  Him  now;  perhaps  later  he 
would  learn  to  love  Him.  At  all  events  he 
was  anxious  to  become  His  follower  without 
delay. 

One  of  the  men  answered  with  prompt  de- 
cision: "  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
and  thou  shalt  be  saved." 

Hector  listened  in  astonishment.  He  could 
not  yet  quite  understand  what  had  kept  him 
from  rushing  outside  to  certain  freedom  in 
that  one  moment  when  all  was  open  and  un- 
guarded. But,  strangely  enough,  he  had  not 
cared  to  go;  all  thought  of  safety  seemed 
merged  into  a  desire  to  see  and  hear  more 
of  these  wonderful  men,  whom  even  chains, 
stocks,  and  prison  doors  could  not  affect  in 
body,  or  in  spirit! 

He  listened  breathlessly  to  the  talk  that 
now  followed.  First  one,  then  the  other,  in 
an  emulation  of  eagerness,  told  of  a  love,  a 
hope,  a  joy,  so  great  that  no  prison  walls 
could  damp  them.  The  time  fled  swiftly.  All 
the  prisoners  were  gathered  close  about  the 
two,  and  their  unkempt,  haggard  faces  soft- 
ened into  wistfulness  as  they  listened.  As 
for  the  keeper,  his  manner  was  transformed. 
Consideration  and  sympathy  took  the  place 
of  cold  indifference  and  sullen  cruelty.  He 
said  presently  in  a  voice  subdued  to  gentle- 
ness, "  Come  with  me,  please,"  then  turning 
his  eyes  from  one  to  another  of  the  remain- 
ing prisoners,  he  called  to  Hector,  "  Here, 
boy,  I  need  your  help." 

Hector  went  at  once. 

"  I  want  you  to  help  me  care  for  these 
holy  men,"  he  said  with  reverence;  and  the 
Greek  was  glad  to  obey.  . 

He  led  the  two  into  the  inner,  walled  court 
where  was  a  well,  and  while  the  young  man 
drew  water,  the  keeper  with  his  own  hands 
softly  washed  their  stripes,  cleansing  the 
raised  welts  from  the  coagulated  blood, 
which  added  so  greatly  to  the  smart  and 
fever  of  the  wounds.  His  family  stood 
around,  thoroughly  roused  by  these  strange 
happenings,  and  when  this  act  of  mercy,  the 
first  fruit  of  the  new  Gospel  in  that  hard- 
ened jailer's  heart,  was  ended,  one  of  these 
"  holy  men "  baptized  both  him  and  his 
whole  family. 


THE   WEESTLEB  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


25 


Hector  looked  on,  greatly  impressed  by  the 
solemn  ordinance,  though  secretly  longing  to 
hear  the  men  speak  again  of  the  Christ  they 
so  dearly  loved.  But  the  ceremony  was  no 
sooner  over  than  the  keeper,  bowing  rever- 
ently before  them,  begged  they  would  honor 
him  by  coming  into  his  own  apartments, 
and  led  them  away.  Hector,  being  con- 
ducted into  the  large  common  room  of  the 
prison  by  an  attendant,  was  left  there  un- 
chained until  the  morning.  Throwing  him- 
self upon  the  bare  floor,  he  leaned  against 
the  wall  in  a  state  of  mind  far  different  from 
that  of  yesterday. 

What  words  were  these  he  had  heard  to- 
night? There  was  but  one  God,  and  He  had 
been  lately  living  upon  earth  in  the  form  of 
man!  This  was  a  part  of  what  he  had  gath- 
ered, and  the  idea  was  not  wholly  strange  to 
him,  as  he  had  been  taught  that  the  deities 
used  to  come  down  from  Olympus  to  live 
among  men,  and  he  had  always  believed  it. 
But  this  God  came  for  but  one  purpose- 
only  one!  Not  for  His  amusement;  not  to 
witness  the  fairness  of  the  daughters  of 
earth;  not  to  disport  Himself  in  sylvan 
groves,  nor  enjoy  the  triumphs  of  great  pro- 
cessions, but  to  redeem  man  from  his  sins. 
To  teach  him  His  own  grace  and  love,  until 
sin  became  hateful  to  him,  and  the  beauty 
of  holiness  desirable.  To  show  him  the 
glory  of  self-sacrifice  and  the  might  of 
love.  To  be  to  him  a  Friend,  an  Elder 
Brother! 

In  these  surprising  thoughts  Hector  forgot 
he  was  a  prisoner,  did  not  notice  that  he  had 
no  bed  but  the  bare  stones,  and  finally 
dropped  to  sleep  in  a  blissful  calm  that 
made  patience  a  thing  of  course,  and  happi- 
ness, even  here,  more  than  a  possibility. 

He  was  wakened  by  a  dazzling  light,  and 
looked  up  to  see  the  keeper  and  several 
other  men  walking  about  in  earnest  conver- 
sation, while  they  examined  the  damaged 
walls.  The  brilliant  light  was  caused  by  a 
large  crack  at  his  side,  into  which  he  could 
easily  thrust  his  hand,  and  through  which 
one  ray  of  blessed  sunshine  fell  directly  upon 
his  face,  as  if  with  a  morning  greeting.  It 
cheered  him  inexpressibly,  and  he  sat  up 
with  a  smiling  face,  ready  to  meet  the  day's 
troubles  in  a  new  spirit. 

The  earthquake  had  done  considerable 
damage  to  the  prison,  but  the  inmates 
seemed  like  other  beings  under  the  influence 
of  last  night's  events  and  this  morning's 
light.  They  were  all  gathered  in  this  large 
common  room,  and  the  question  of  their 


further  disposal  was  now  agitating  these 
magnates,  whose  purple  togas  showed  their 
high  rank  and  dignity.  One  came  and 
looked  down  at  Hector,  as  he  sat  upon  the 
floor.  Instantly  the  youth  bounded  to  his 
feet,  and  bowed  with  the  grace  of  a  well- 
knit  figure  and  courteous  training. 

"  Ah,  my  fine  fellow,  and  what  are  you  in 
here  for?"  asked  the  magnate,  smiling  a  lit- 
tle, as  he  slowly  measured  Hector  with  his 
eyes. 

The  latter  looked  at  him  frankly.  He  saw 
a  tall,  handsome  young  man  with  the  clus- 
tering curls  which  the  royal  boy,  Nero,  was 
making  the  fashion,  and  with  a  dress  richer 
even  than  that  of  the  Duumvirs,  who  had 
given  Hector  his  ideas  of  royalty  up  to  this 
time.  He  saw  also  a  carelessly  kind  expres- 
sion, a  rather  bored  droop  to  the  handsome 
mouth,  and  prow's-feet  about  the  eyes,  that 
spoke  of  dissipation  rather  than  of  age. 

The  keeper  took  the  answer  from  Hector's 
lips:  "  For  a  night  brawl,  sire.  Then  he 
was  violent,  and  had  to  be  double-chained." 

The  young  patrician  glanced  down  at 
Hector's  feet,  and  the  other  men  turned  to 
look,  also. 

"  But  he  is  unchained  now,  I  soe." 

"  Yes,  sire,  as  all  the  rest.  The  fetters 
were  all  broken  by  the  earthquake." 

"  Yes,  so  I  heard.  Rather  remarkable, 
that!' 

He  turned  and  began  talking  with  the 
others  of  something  which  had  seemingly 
just  occurred  that  Hector  found  himself 
deeply  interested  in. 

Evidently  those  strange  prisoners  of  last 
night  had  turned  out  to  be  free  Romans, 
therefore  exempt  from  scourgings  and  tor- 
ture, unless  by  the  decree  of  royalty  itself. 
In  their  fright  at  what  might  result  from 
this  insult  to  the  strangers,  the  magistrates 
had  sent  word  at  dawn  to  release  them. 
But  when  the  keeper  gladly  brought  the 
word  he  was  amazed  at  the  dignified  an- 
swer of  the  two  prisoners,  that  having  been 
openly  disgraced  they  would  not  accept  of 
secret  pardon!  The  magistrates  must  them- 
selves come  and  set  them  free.  And  they 
had  been  obliged  to  do  it— that  was  evident. 
Hector  wanted  to  chuckle  as  he  heard  their 
low  talk,  half  chagrined,  half  amused  at 
their  own  mortification,  and  saw  their  an- 
noyed faces.  He  only  wished  he  had  been 
awake  to  see  it  all!  The  young  man  who 
had  spoken  to  him  seemed  to  be  enjoying 
the  situation  greatly,  and  did  not  cease  his 
raillery  at  the  discomfited  officers. 


26 


THE  WBESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPL 


Presently,  however,  the  others  passed  on 
and  he  turned  back  to  Hector. 

"  A  night  brawler,  eh  ?"  said  he  with  a 
laugh.  "  I  thought  we  of  the  Castle  re- 
served all  such  sport  to  ourselves  in  quiet 
Philippi.  You  must  have  been  very  drunk, 
though,  or  you  could  have  held  your  own, 
my  man!"  running  his  eyes  admiringly  over 
Hector's  well-developed  figure.  "  There  are 
not  many  with  such  muscles  as  those;"  and 
his  fingers  closed  over  Hector's  massive 
biceps. 

"  They  are  flabby  now  from  disuse,  sire," 
the  latter  spoke  up  quickly  with  professional 
pride,  making  them  as  tense  as  possible. 
"  But  indeed  I  was  neither  drunk  nor  quar- 
relsome until  goaded  to  madness.  I  de- 
fended my  sister  from  a  crowd  of  your  own 
castle  people,  sire,  and  supposed  she  was 
safe  in  the  house  when  they  dispersed. 
Then  I  found  they  had  carried  her  away, 
and  what  could  I  do  but  run  after  them 
with  cries  of  fury  and  revenge?" 

"'They'?  You  don't  mean  our  Roman 
bacchanals?" 

"  Yes,  sire,  I  do." 

"  No,  no!  I  should  have  heard— how  long 
since?" 

"  By  my  reckoning,  which  is  uncertain  in 
these  holes,  six  nights  ago.  sire." 

"  Six?"  The  patrician  mused  a  second, 
then  looked  up  with  a  start.  "  Why,  I—" 
Then  he  stopped.  "Who  arrested  you?"  he 
asked  next, 

"The  Guards  of  the  Castle.  Some  one 
called  from  a  turret  window  and  they  at 
once  surrounded  me.  I  felled  three  with  my 
bare  fists,  but  they  tripped  me  up  and  fell 
upon  me,  so  that  I  was  overpowered  and 
nearly  senseless." 

"I  should  think  so!  Jove!  it  was  a  feat! 
Felled  three  full-armed  guards,  and  you 
half-naked,  while  they  had  spears  and 
breastplates!  Pretty  well,  pretty  well!  But 
tell  me  more.  Why  did  you  think  your  sis- 
ter was  carried  off  to  the  Castle,  my  youth- 
ful fighter?" 

Hector  now  told  the  story  in  detail,  and 
the  young  lord  listened  with  evident  inter- 
est, waving  off  the  Duumvirs  when  they 
approached,  with  the  words: 

"  Presently,  presently!  Go  on  and  wait 
for  me  in  the  hall  of  justice.  I  think  I  have 
found  another  case  of  misguided  zeal,  and 
you  are  not  the  victims  this  time;"  ending 
with  a  taunting  laugh. 

They  hurried  out,  red  and  warm,  but  did 
not  answer  the  arrogant  young  lord  as  he 


deserved,  and  this  convinced  Hector  that  his 
rank  must  be  greater  even  than  he  had  at 
first  supposed.  The  noble  turned  to  the  in- 
teresting prisoner  again. 

"  Your  tale  is  true — of  that  I  am  certain— 
but  in  some  way  you  have  made  a  great 
mistake.  Your  sister  was  not  carried  away, 
nor  is  she  at  the  Castle.  She  escaped  into 
the  darkness  somewhere,  and  is  doubtless 
awaiting  you,  safe  and  well,  at  home." 

"  Oh,  would  I  could  go  to  her!"  sighed 
poor  Hector  from  his  very  heart. 

"You  shall!"  was  the  quick  response.  "I 
know  who  ordered— that  is,  I  have  an  idea 
of  the  manner  of  your  arrest,  and  am  sure 
you  have  been  simply  forgotten.  But  you 
have  suffered  enough.  In  a  few  moments 
you  shall  be  free.  And  here," — the  young 
patrician  drew  from  his  finger  a  ring  of 
peculiar  workmanship — "  when  you  have 
found  and  comforted  your  pretty  sister, 
come  to  the  Castle,  show  that  ring,  and  ask 
for  its  owner.  It  will  admit  you.  Will  you 
remember?" 

"  Certainly,  O  gracious  prince.  Accept 
the  thanks  of  one  who  has  twice  won  the 
Olympic  crown,  and  therefore  is  perhaps 
not  entirely  unworthy  of  your  clemency." 

"  Hah!  Is  that  true?  I  thought  you  were 
no  common  prisoner  the  moment  my  eyes 
lighted  on  you.  Well,  well!"  smiling  with 
easy  kindness,  "  put  this  upon  your  finger 
and  mope  no  longer.  You  will  soon  be  free, 
and  there  may  come  a  time  when  you  will 
not  regret  this  short  imprisonment.  I  will 
see  you  again." 

He  turned  quickly,  waved  his  hand  in  re- 
turn to  Hector's  deep  salaam,  and  hurried 
on  after  the  magistrates.  The  delighted 
young  Greek  gazed  after  him,  wondering 
if  he  were  really  awake,  or  if  this  whole 
strange  night  were  not  some  bright  and 
vivid  dream  from  which  he  must  awaken  to 
his  dismal  inner  dungeon  once  more. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 
THE  SOOTHSAYER  AT  HOME. 

NEAR  the  outer  wall  of  Philippi  was  a 
quarter  given  over  to  the  very  poor. 
It  was  squalid  and  dirty  beyond  de- 
scription.   The     low,     mud-walled     houses, 
crowded    together   and    running    over   with 
human   life,   were   set   flat   on    the   ground, 
guiltless  of  drainage  or  paving.    Here  gar- 
bage collected  until  the  hot  air  was  reeking 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPL 


27 


and  poisonous.  Here  starving  curs  wan- 
dered in  bands  and  fought  for  a  seldom- 
found  bone;  here  women  cooked  over  their 
tiny  braziers,  and  scolded  their  crying  chil- 
dren; here  men  sold  and  squabbled  over 
their  small,  unclean  stocks  of  goods;  here 
they  all  ate  and  drank,  dressed  and  slept, 
lounged  and  worked,  in  the  open  street,  or 
on  the  flat  roofs  of  the  hovels  they  called 
home. 

A  group  of  men  of  evil  aspect  and  in  the 
ragged  garb  of  traveling  mendicants  was 
squatted  in  front  of  one  of  the  vilest  of 
these  hovels,  busy  at  some  game  in  which 
dice  were  thrown  and  mites  and  quadrans 
changed  hands  frequently,  and  with  heads 
close  together  in  consultation  at  every  pause 
in  the  gaming.  Whenever  they  stopped  to 
talk  they  ate  of  a  sort  of  cake,  made  of  a 
hash  of  mixed  ingredients  highly  spiced  and 
flavored,  and  drank  largely  from  a  common 
gourd  of  fermented  liquor,  sour  and  sting- 
ing in  taste,  but  with  strong  intoxicating 
properties. 

"  I  tell  you,"  said  one,  whose  features 
spoke  of  Roman  descent,  "  she  must  go  if 
we  have  to  carry  her!  She  has  been  the 
best  speculation  we  ever  handled,  and  if  I 
.Lad  had  any  luck  at  play,  and  you  had  not 
been  so  greedy,  Alois,  we  could  have  called 
ourselves  rich  by  now." 

"What  aileth  her,  anyhow?"  asked  one  of 
the  group,  quickly,  with  intent  to  divert  a 
quarrel,  for  the  "  greedy  Alois  "  had  started 
up  with  clenched  fists;  but  he  slowly 
dropped  to  his  place  again,  and  leaned  back 
indolently  as  the  Roman  explained: 

"  Oh,  she  is  feigning  some  ailment  only. 
Since  that  affair  with  those  two  would-be 
priests,  the  other  day,  she  has  been  as  weak 
as  water,  and  as  clear  in  her  brain  as  you 
are — to  our  hurt!" 

"  She  looks  it  rightly  enough,"  put  in  an- 
other, taking  a  long  draught  of  the  rank- 
smelling  liquor. 

"  Oh,  she  is  always  white  as  the  snow  up 
on  the  range,"  returned  the  Roman,  pointing 
carelessly  to  the  mountains  beyond  the  city, 
"  but  that  is  nothing.  I  wist  she  is  sullen 
only.  She  declares  she  can  not  prophesy 
any  more.  She  bewails  her  '  wickedness,' 
the  jade!  and  begs  just  to  be  let  alone.  She 
ought  to  have  a  good  beating,  but—" 

He  hesitated,  and  Alois,  who  wore  a 
Phoenician's  headgear,  added  coolly: 

"  Peradventure  that  would  end  the  busi- 
ness. It  would  be  poor  policy,  Flavius. 
Better  glut  your  temper  some  other  way. 


Your  little  plan  did  not  seem  to  work  very 
well  with  the  prophets,  though!"  and  he 
laughed  tauntingly. 

The  two  men  glowered  at  each  other,  but 
Alois  grew  more  cheerful.  He  had. avenged 
his  partner's  insulting  epithet,  and  felt  bet- 
ter. Indeed,  the  two  men  never  ceased  to 
snarl  and  bicker;  yet  while  each  feared  and 
hated  the  other,  they  were  so  bound  by 
mutual  infamies  and  mutual  distrust,  that 
they  clung  together  the  more  closely  the 
greater  their  longing  to  pull  asunder.  It 
was  a  vile  and  terrible  bond,  which  indeed 
had  become  a  very  chain  of  fret  and  tur- 
moil, wearing  into  their  sin-laden  souls. 

Flavius,  once  a  seaman  and  more  likely 
than  not  of  the  galleys — at  any  rate  an  off- 
scouring  of  Rome — was  cruel,  unscrupulous 
and  brazen,  a  coward  at  heart,  though 
capable  of  hardships  almost  incredible; 
Alois,  the  Phoenician,  his  junior  by  many 
years,  wras  brave  in  action  and  had  generous 
instincts,  but  self-indulgence  had  buried 
these  better  qualities  till  he  was  little  more 
than  a  glutton  and  wine-bibber,  getting  the 
means  to  satisfy  his  appetite  where  and  as 
he  could.  Yet,  beneath  his  bloated  ex- 
terior beat  a  heart  which  might  even  yet  be 
stirred  to  pity,  if  the  brain  were  not  too 
stupefied  to  control  it. 

The  helpless  victim  of  these  two  wretches 
now  lay  upon  her  mat  on  the  roof  of  the 
house,  a  bit  of  soiled  tent-cloth  stretched  be- 
tween her  and  the  sun,  which  beat  down  hot 
and  relentless  at  this  hour.  Yet  it  was  bet- 
ter here  than  in  the  small  furnace-like 
rooms  below,  always  close  and  odorous,  for 
an  occasional  breath  of  air  touched  her 
white  cheek  and  lifted  the  dark  locks  from 
her  burning  brow.  She  was  a  young  girl  of 
delicate  form  and  features,  but  so  pinched 
with  famine  and  worn  with  travel  and  ill- 
usage  that  little  beauty  remained  to  her. 
Yet  her  eyes,  large,  soft,  and  heavily  shaded 
by  the  black  lashes,  could  never  be  less 
than  beautiful. 

Presently  a  woman,  deformed  and  hag- 
like,  came  up  the  outer  stair,  and,  stepping 
to  the  side  of  the  girl  on  the  mat,  bent  over 
her.  The  great  dark  eyes  opened  and  looked 
up  with  a  troubled  gaze. 

"  Well,  Agistha,"  said  the  woman  in  a 
high,  cracked  voice,  "  how  do  you  feel 
now?" 

"  No  better,"  said  the  girl  faintly,  shut- 
ting her  eyes  again,  while  her  brows  con- 
tracted in  a  frown.  "  Why  can't  I  be  left 
in  peace?" 


28 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


"'Peace'!  She  talks  of  peace!"  cackled 
the  crone,  apparently  to  the  sky.  "  And  that 
when  she  has  been  lying  here  a  stretch  of 
thirty-six  hours,  at  least!  But  who  is  to 
earn  the  mites  while  she  is  taking  her  peace, 
I  want  to  know?" 

Agistha  made  an  uneasy  movement  on 
her  hard  bed.  "  I  am  too  ill,"  she  muttered. 
"  Oh,  for  rest,  rest,  rest!" 

Tears  began  to  ooze  out  beneath  her  white 
eyelids  and  fall  over  her  sunken  cheeks, 
while  her  lips,  already  lined  by  misery, 
quivered  like  a  child's. 

The  woman  muttered  something  and 
turned  quickly  away.  She  had  had  a 
daughter  years  ago,  she  had  a  grand- 
daughter now,  and  a  mother  cannot  be  quite 
dead  to  feeling.  She  turned  back,  and  with 
a  sudden,  half-shamed  movement  caught  up 
her  girdle  and  wiped  Agistha's  face  with  a 
not  ungentle  touch.  "  There,  rest!"  she  said. 
"  Sleep!  I'll  keep  those  wolves  at  bay. 
Sleep,  I  tell  you,  and  fear  not."  Then,  be- 
fore the  dazed  girl  had  fully  caught  her 
meaning,  she  was  slipping  down  the  rotten 
old  steps,  her  face  set  and  stern. 

The  men  were  still  throwing  dice  outside 
in  the  street,  their  voices  raised  and  rapid 
In  their  ceaseless  quarreling.  But  the 
woman  only  threw  them  a  contemptuous 
glance,  and  shrugged  her  shoulders  as  she 
went  about  her  work. 

By  and  by  Flavius  peered  in  at  the  door 
and  called  out: 

"  Say,  Phryne,  where  lyeth  the  girl?  Did 
you  arouse  her,  as  I  bade  you,  and  tell  her 
to  be  ready  for  the  evening  hour  when  the 
rich  idlers  gather  at  the  forum,  waiting  to 
be  amused?" 

"  Oh,  I  told  her— yes." 

''You  told  her— well,  is  she  up?  She  must 
have  some  food,  I  suppose,  and  by  that 
time—" 

The  old  woman  looked  at  him,  showing 
two  long  fangs  of  teeth  in  a  horrible  smile. 
"  What  a  fool  you  are,  Flavius!"  she  re- 
marked in  an  abstracted  fashion.  "  Know 
you  not  the  creature  is  dying?  Why  cannot 
you  let  her  go  in  peace?" 

He  started  and  stared  at  her.  Alois,  too, 
set  down  his  dice  box  and  came  forward, 
while  the  other  men  glanced  up  from  their 
gambling  to  peer  through  the  open  door, 
their  throws  suspended  in  air. 

"  Dying?  Who  says  so?  How  do  you 
know?"  shouted  Flavius,  hoarsely. 

"Hush!  I  would  not  tell  her  of  it  were  I 
you— though,  Pluto  knows,  she  must  be  glad 


to  go!  Yes,  she  has  one  chance  in  twenty, 
perhaps,  to  live." 

"One  chance!    You're  lying,  witch!" 

She  chuckled.  "That  is  a  bit  of  foolish- 
ness I  lay  no  claim  to — lying  just  for  the 
sake  of  lying.  I  keep  it  for  occasions  when 
it  will  serve.  Usually  it  is  quicker  to  tell 
the  truth.  It  is  now.  She  is  dying,  unless 
something  I  do  not  expect  turns  up  to  save 
her.  Go  see  for  yourself,  go  ask  the  best 
leech  in  Philippi,  go  consult  any  soothsayer 
— they  will  tell  you  the  same.  It  is  written 
on  her  face — it  looks  out  of  her  eyes;  but 
there  is  alwaj*s  a  chance." 

Flavius  scowled  fiercely,  seeing  his  easy 
gains  about  to  desert  him  forever;  for 
though  Agistha  had  not  been  able  to 
prophesy  since  the  two  strange  men,  whom 
she  had  persisted  in  following  to  designate 
them  as  "  servants  of  God,"  had  commanded 
the  evil  spirit  to  come  out  of  her,  yet  he  had 
fully  expected  the  power  would  return  as 
soon  as  she  was  well  enough  for  him  to 
once  more  subdue  her  by  famine,  fright,  and 
the  force  of  his  own  will.  Could  it  be  that 
death  was  to  steal  her  from  him,  and  leave 
him  bankrupt? 

As  he  stood  thus,  filled  with  evil  musings, 
Alois  asked  with  a  touch  of  real  concern  in 
his  voice: 

"  But  the  one  chance  in  twenty,  Phryne; 
what  is  that?" 

She  looked  from  Flavius  to  him.  and 
laughed  maliciously.  "  What  an  interest 
you  have  in  her — you  two!  Why  should  I 
help  keep  her  alive  to  make  a  living  for  you 
two  lazy  louts?  She  does  not  care  to  get 
well,  I  will  warrant  you." 

"  Do  you  not  share  our  gains,  you  old  imp 
from  Tartarus?"  cried  Flavius  in  a  fury. 
"  Do  we  not  buy  your  rotten  fruit  and 
spoiled  wine,  you  old  cheat  and  usurer?  Do 
we  not — " 

Phryne  burst  into  a  louder  laugh,  and 
shook  a  long,  bony  finger  in  his  face. 
"  Who  asks  you  to  buy  my  wares,  you  galley 
slave?  Take  your  trade  elsewhere,  if  you 
like — there  are  plenty  to  buy— and  next 
time  you  come  whining  around  for  credit. 
just  remember  my  fruits  are  rotten,  will 
you?" 

She  turned  her  back  on  him  and  spoke  to 
Alois.  "  Her  one  chance?"  she  repeated,  as 
calmly  as  if  she  had  not  just  been  screaming 
at  the  top  of  her  voice.  "It  is  this — that 
she  be  left  to  sleep  undisturbed  till  the  moon 
is  full.  That  is  all  that  will  save  her.  She 
is  literally  worn  out." 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


29 


"And  it  is  but  a  crescent  now!"  cried 
Alois.  "What  will  we  do  meanwhile?" 

"Work,  you  dogs!"  said  the  woman  in  a 
fierce  tone,  "  and  I  will  keep  the  girl.  She 
will  not  eat  while  her  fever  is  on,  and  my 
little  Persis  can  sit  by  her  at  times." 

"  I  will  have  a  look  at  her  myself!"  said 
the  man  suddenly,  and  stepped  to  the  stair- 
way. 

Flavius  instantly  followed  him.  Nobody 
could  tell  what  plan  this  precious  partner 
might  have  in  mind  to  defraud  him.  Per- 
haps he  and  the  old  woman  were  in  con- 
spiracy together. 

Alois  reached  the  roof  first.  The  sun  was 
setting  and  the  low  housetop,  overhung  by 
higher  walls  beyond,  was  quite  in  shadow. 
In  his  bare  feet  he  stepped  across  the  rough 
flooring  of  dried  sticks  and  mud,  to  the  re- 
clining figure  on  the  mat  under  the  tent- 
cloth.  She  must  be  asleep,  for  she  was  very 
still.  He  bent  over  her,  gave  a  startled  cry, 
and  touched  her  cheek— then  sprang  back 
and  turned  to  see  his  partner  close  behind. 

"  She  is  dead  already!"  he  said  in  an  awe- 
struck tone.  "And  look!  See  how  she 
smiles.  She  is  glad  to  go,  poor  little  thing! 
Flavius,  we  have  been  hard  with  her." 

He  watched  her  with  a  softening  expres- 
sion for  an  instant,  while  the  other  man, 
after  one  look,  turned  away  with  a  curse. 

"  Peace!"  said  Alois.  "  She  was  a  meek, 
docile  creature.  I  am  glad'  she  can  smile 
now — I  thought  she  had  forgotten  how. 
Why,  she  is  really  comely,  Flavius!" 

He  looked  around,  to  see  his  partner's 
brows  met  in  a  black  frown. 

"  She  was  worth  a  half-dozen  denarii  a 
week!"  he  muttered,  setting  his  teeth  to- 
gether with  a  curse.  "  That  was  beauty 
enough  for  me.  And  it  will  cost  at  least 
one  to  bury  her.  I  thought  the  omens  bad 
enough  when  I  heard  those  wretched  priests 
had  got  out  of  prison  in  such  a  strange  way, 
and  in  high  feather,  but  this  is  worse!  Cover 
her  face,  Alois;  she  looks  as  if  she  was 
laughing  at  us— curse  her!"  and,  turning 
hastily  away,  he  flung  himself  down  the 
stairway  in  the  blackest  of  even  his  black 
moods. 

Alois  lifted  the  end  of  the  girl's  ragged 
girdle  and  laid  it  gently  over  the  white  face, 
stopping  another  instant  to  place  the  hands 
together  on  her  breast. 

"  I  wish  we  had  been  a  bit  kinder  to  you, 
little  one!"  he  muttered,  then  turned  and 
followed  his  partner,  leaving  the  poor  girlish 
soothsayer  to  sleep  in  peace. 


Burials  were  never  long  delayed,  espe- 
cially among  the  very  poor,  who  had  no 
money  for  embalming  cloths  and  spices. 
That  evening,  not  two  hours  later,  Phryne 
wrapped  the  child— she  was  little  more — in 
an  old  white  chlamys  made  into  a  grave- 
cloth  and  wound  about  over  her  chiton  of 
rouglily-wovon  cotton,  then  with  the  help  of 
Alois,  carried  her  below. 

Flavius  had  left  the  house  immediately, 
and  did  not  return  for  a  day  or  two.  A 
rough  bier  was  procured,  and  a  few  neigh- 
bors gathered  with  torches.  Some  one  had 
secured  a  permit  to  allow  of  their  going 
without  the  walls  to  the  place  reserved  for 
the  pauper  dead,  and  amid  a  procession  of 
not  more  than  half  a  dozen,  four  of  whom 
bore  the  light  burden  and  two  the  blazing- 
torches,  Agistha  was  borne  to  her  tomb. 
Some  one  with  a  charitable  heart  slipped  be- 
tween her  stiffened  lips  the  obolus,  or  silver 
bit  of  coin  for  the  payment  of  Charon  when 
he  should  tow  her  over  the  Styx,  and  as 
they  set  down  the  bier  before  the  rude  cave, 
one  sang  a  wailing  chant  in  lieu  of  a  flute. 
The  toryib  was  poor  and  shallow.  As  the 
men  rolled  away  the  entrance  stone,  a  cloud 
of  bats  flew  out  and  circled  about  the  flar- 
ing torches,  startled  by  their  smoky  glare. 

The  men  had  just  turned  to  take  up  the 
bier,  and  stood  to  repeat  an  incantation  be- 
fore shoving  it  into  the  tomb  as  a  baker 
shoves  a  tin  of  loaves  into  his  brick  oven, 
when  there  came  an  interruption.  A  band 
of  marauders,  who  lived  in  the  fastnesses 
of  the  mountains,  had  stolen  down  into  the 
plain  just  without  the  gates,  in  order  to  pick 
up  whatever  spoil  in  the  shape  of  stray 
sheep,  goats,  or  unprotected  travelers  they 
might  come  across.  Seeing  the  lonely  little 
funeral  train,  they,  in  pure  wantonness, 
came  dashing  down  upon  it,  yelling  in  their 
savage  manner,  and  ripe  for  plunder. 

As  with  one  accord  the  bier  was  dropped, 
the  torches  thrown  down  and  extinguished, 
and  the  frightened  mourners — who  were  in 
no  real  sense  mourners  at  all— hastened  to 
hide  amid  the  thickets  close  by,  thence  to 
creep  tremblingly  back  by  varying  routes. 
Thus  slinking  and  crawling  between  clumps 
of  weeds  and  outcropping  rocks,  they 
gradually  drew  nearer  the  walls,  until  they 
dared  make  a  dash  for  the  gates,  leaving  the 
laughing  raiders  to  ride  away. 

But  the  body  of  Agistha  lay  on  the  bier 
out  under  the  pale  stars,  in  the  dark  shadow 
of  her  tomb,  unprotected  by  even  its  rude 
stone  from  prowling  beast  or  unclean  bird. 


30 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPL 


CHAPTER  IX. 

SOME  MEMORABLE  MEETINGS. 

IT  had  been  a  hot  day,  but  the  night  was 
cool,  and  by  midnight  the  condensed 
vapors  fell  in  a  brisk  shower,  sudden  and 
drenching,  though  brief.  A  small  party  of 
travelers,  hastening  across  country,  made  a 
quick  rush  for  the  bluff  off  to  their  right, 
hoping  to  find  an  empty  cave  among  the 
tombs  therein,  and  at  any  rate  a  partial 
shelter  from  the  driving  storm,  amid  its 
rocks  and  bushes. 

It  had  grown  intensely  dark,  and  as  they 
stumbled  along,  their  footsteps  and  voices 
drowned  in  the  roar  of  the  heavy  rainfall, 
one  of  the  young  men  became  separated 
from  the  others  and  groped  his  way  in  an 
opposite  direction,  as  he  followed  the  bend 
of  the  cliff.  Here  he  was  glad  to  find  that 
by  squeezing  between  two  tall  boulders, 
fallen  together  in  tent  shape,  he  could  secure 
shelter. 

As  we  have  said,  the  storm  was  brief 
though  severe,  and  presently  the  driving 
sheets  of  rain  grew  thin,  as  if  torn  into 
strips,  then  fluttered  into  mere  rags  of 
vapor,  and  finally  cleared  entirely  away,  as 
though  blown  quite  out  of  existence. 

Almost  immediately  the  moon  broke  forth, 
bright  as  a  golden  crown  still  unjeweled. 
Seeing  the  storm  was  entirely  past,  the 
youth  was  about  to  crawl  out  from  his 
cramped  quarters,  when,  with  a  thrill  of 
superstitious  terror,  he  noted  that  just  be- 
yond him,  quite  close  to  the  honeycombed 
bluff,  was  a  rude  bier,  and  that  the  white- 
enshrouded  body  upon  it,  which  should  have 
lain  motionless,  was  sitting  up,  eerie  and 
solemn  against  the  moonlight. 

As  he  watched  it,  awe-stricken  and  chilled 
at  the  ghostly  sight,  he  saw  its  head  turn 
slowly  like  a  child's  just  wakened  from 
deep  sleep,  and  then,  still  slowly,  as  if  from 
weakness  or  cumbering  garments,  it  rose  to 
its  feet,  and  looking  in  every  direction,  with 
hastier  and  more  confused  motions,  it  broke 
into  a  pitiful  little  cry: 

"  Oh,  where  am  I?    Help!  help!" 

The  youth,  being  of  better  sense  than  some 
of  the  superstitious  multitude,  saw  at  once 
that  the  child  (the  voice  sounded  like  a 
child's)  had  not  been  dead,  as  supposed 
when  hastily  borne  to  the  tomb,  and  had 
been  roused  by  the  stinging  rain  to  full  life 
and  consciousness,  only  to  suffer  an  agony 
of  terror  in  that  gruesome  place. 


He  quickly  answered  the  sharp,  feeble 
wail  by  the  brisk  words:  "Do  not  be 
frightened— I  am  here.  I  will  help  you— 
wait!"  For  he  knew  that  her  feet  must  be 
bound  together  with  the  grave-cloths,  and 
that  if  she  should  stumble  in  that  rough 
place,  it  might  injure  her  seriously. 

Still  thinking  her  a  mere  child,  he  hurried 
to  the  trembling  figure,  telling  himself  that 
it  looked  so  tall  only  because  of  the  clinging 
white  garments  and  the  moonlight  at  its 
back,  which  set  it  out  like  a  picture  never 
to  be  forgotten  by  the  beholder. 

"  Wait!"  he  kept  urging  as  he  clambered 
across  the  boulder-strewn  space  to  her  side. 

And  she  answered:  "  Oh,  who  are  you, 
and  where  am  I?  Have  I  waked  in  Hades, 
and  are  you  sent  from  Pluto  to  bear  me 
into  the  Eternal  Shades?" 

"  No!  no!"  cried  the  youth  cheerily,  yet 
half  shrinking  from  the  spirit-like  figure 
too,  "no,  indeed!  Do  you  not  see  the  moon? 
This  is  good  old  earth  yet,  and  I  am  a 
traveler  who  happened  along  just  in  time. 
When  did  you  die — go  to  sleep  like  this? 
Do  you  know?" 

Agistha  looked  at  the  stranger  wonder- 
ingly,  for  the  bright  light,  falling  full  upon 
his  face,  made  it  quite  plain  to  her.  He 
was  ruddy  and  fair  to  look  upon,  like  David 
of  old,  and  from  his  blue  eyes  beamed  a 
kindliness  not  so  common  but  that  Agistha 
noted  it  at  once.  She  watched  him  silently, 
without  attempting  to  answer  a  question 
she  had  not  yet  fully  comprehended,  as  he 
loosed  her  feet  and  hands.  Then  a  long 
shiver  went  over  her— she  was  beginning  to 
remember. 

"  Where  is  this?"  she  whispered.  "  Are 
Flavius  and  Alois  near  by?  Did  they  do  it 
to  punish  me?  Am  I  outside  the  city  gates? 
Where  is  Phryne — oh!  is  this  the  place  of 
tombs?" 

These  rapid  questions  were  poured  forth 
so  eagerly  that  the  youth  really  caught  but 
one  name  which  was  in  any  sort  familiar. 

"  Phryne?"  he  repeated.  "  I  know  a 
woman — but  then,  it  is  a  common  name. 
Yes,  this  is  near  the  tombs.  You  have  been 
in  a  deep  sleep  that  they  took  for  death. 
But  no  one  else  is  here,  and  the  city  gates 
are  now  locked  for  the  night.  Be  patient, 
however,  and  I  will  conduct  you  hence  in 
the  dawning.  Look!  Already  the  moon  is 
near  its  setting,  and  it  will  soon  be  quite 
dark.  I  have  friends  near  by  who  will  help 
me  care  for  you.  Come!" 

The  girl  looked  at  his  outstretched  hand  a 


THE   WRESTLES  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


31 


minute,  as  if  slow  of  comprehension  or  re- 
luctant of  friendliness.  But  soon  she  slipped 
her  own  into  it  with  a  gesture  of  trust  that 
pleased  the  youth. 
"  It  is  a  good  child,  but  hardly  a  bright 


"  Thallus,  is  that  you?" 

An  eager  voice  answered  at  once:  "  What, 
Herklas?  We  were  frightened  about  you. 
We  thought — but  whom  have  you  there?" 

"  It  is   a   child,   brought   here   while   still 


He  quickly  answered  the  sharp,  feeble  wail  by  the  brisk  words,  "Don't  be 
frightened— I  am  here.    1  will  help  you."— See  page  30. 


one,"  he  thought,  as  he  led  her  carefully 
amid  the  roughnesses.  He  refrained  from 
calling  aloud  for  his  friends,  however,  as  he 
had  no  desire  to  attract  the  notice  of  lurking 
thieves,  or  animals. 

Presently,  as  they  stumbled  along  in  the 
dimming  light,  he  saw  a  body  moving  be- 
yond him  in  the  thicket  and,  after  a  sharp 
look,  ventured  to  call  out  restrainedly: 


alive,  for  burial,  and  left,  for  some  reason, 
outside  on  her  bier.  A  fortunate  thing  for 
her,  too,  as  the  rain  evidently  revived  her." 
"  Dreadful!  This  smacks  of  crime.  How 
she  shivers,  poor  thing!  She  must  be  wet  to 
the  bone,  and  frightened  into  the  bargain. 
Come,  we  have  found  a  dry  and  empty 
cavern.  The  others  are  kindling  a  fire,  and 
we  will  have  something  warming  before  we 


32 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHILIP  PL 


go  farther.  Let  the  child  come  in  and  dry 
herself." 

Still  clinging  closely  to  the  hand  of 
Herklas,  Agistha  was  led  into  the  cavern, 
and  as  they  stooped  to  enter  the  low  door- 
way a  bright  tongue  of  flame  shot  up 
against  its  inner  concave  wall.  Some  one 
glanced  up  from  blowing  ft,  to  ask: 

"Did  you  find  him,  Thallus?  Ah!"  He 
looked  hard  at  Agistha,  while  the  two  other 
men  who  were  crouched  near  by,  talking  in 
low  tones  together,  stopped  and  turned  to 
gaze. 

In  a  low  tone  Thallus  explained,  and  at 
once  the  other  three  became  gentle  and  at- 
tentive in  manner.  They  made  room  for  the 
girl  close  by  the  fire,  and  one  laid  his  abba 
on  the  rough  stone  floor  for  her  to  sit  upon, 
while  another  wrapped  his,  freshly  warmed, 
around  her  shoulders. 

All  this  was  so  unusual  that  Agistha  was 
speechless  from  sheer  astonishment.  When, 
presently,  they  passed  her  plain  hot  food 
and  drink,  she  took  it  in  silence,  eating  and 
drinking  ravenously,  but  speaking  never  a 
word  of  thanks  or  acknowledgment. 

She  felt  that  she  must,  somehow,  have  got 
into  another  world,  or  country,  even  if  she 
Lad  not  died.  She  noticed  that,  before  the 
others  ate,  one  spread  his  hands  above  the 
food  and  begged  of  God  to  bless  it.  He  did 
not  speak  the  name  of  one  of  the  Penates, 
either,  but  seemed  to  address  some  great 
and  glorious  Being  for  whom  his  heart  was 
filled  with  love.  Agistha  gazed  and  won- 
dered, but  she  felt  strangely  weak  and 
sharply  hungry,  so  she  attended  closely  to 
her  meal.  She  was  on  the  lookout,  how- 
ever, for  what  might  come  next,  and  mar- 
veled to  see  that  these  men  neither  quar- 
reled nor  threw  dice,  but  only  talked  in  gen- 
tle tones  of  some  dear  and  lost  Companion 
whom  they  seemed  to  think  God-like  in  all 
his  attributes. 

Enjoying  it  all  with  a  restful  sense  of 
safety  and  comfort,  basking  in  the  warmth 
of  the  firelight,  and  feeling  without  knowing 
it  the  first  effects  of  that  broad.  Heaven- 
born  love-light  which  was  to  flood  the  world 
in  beauty,  she  soon  fell  asleep  once  more 
and  "rested" — poor,  weary  maiden!— as  she 
had  not  for  years. 

It  was  indeed  a  haven  for  the  little  slave 
girl.  Three  of  those  with  whom  she  found 
herself  were  Christian  Jews  from  the 
mother  church  at  Jerusalem:  the  fourth  and 
youngest  was,  as  we  have  seen.  Herklas,  the 
lost  brother  of  Salome  and  Hector.  The 


reasons  for  his  continued  disappearance 
were  as  follows: 

One  day  the  old  worker  in  metals,  Vitellis, 
to  whom  he  was  apprenticed,  sent  the  boy 
to  Neapolis  to  inquire  for  a  consignment  of 
gold,  which  he  had  ordered  shipped  from 
the  island  of  Thasos  some  time  before,  and 
over  the  delay  of  which  he  was  growing 
thoroughly  uneasy. 

Herklas  had  no  time  to  let  the  home 
friends  know  of  this  jaunt,  but  thinking  he 
would  of  course  be  back  by  evening,  he  set 
off  briskly  on  foot  for  the  seaport,  between 
eight  and  ten  miles  away.  The  well-built 
Roman  road,  leading  to  Neapolis.  first 
crossed  a  plain  thickly  traversed  with  rivu- 
lets and  larger  streams,  and  famous  as  the 
battle-ground  where  Antony  and  Octavius 
defeated  Brutus  and  Cassius,  after  which 
the  two  latter,  despairing  of  restoring 
"  honor  to  Rome,"  both  committed  suicide. 
Beyond  this,  Herklas  came  to  a  ridge  of 
highlands  from  which  fine  views  of  city  and 
coast  broke  upon  his  view.  But  to-day  he 
was  thinking  neither  of  the  historic  battle 
plain,  nor  of  beautiful  scenery,  as  he 
trudged  lightly  along,  whistling  in  boyish 
fashion.  He  wras  reflecting,  as  he  often  did, 
that  this  might  be  a  much  brighter  and  bet- 
ter world  if  only  a  few  things  were  differ- 
ent. He  looked  about  on  the  green  and 
beautiful  country,  then  up  at  the  blue  sky, 
and  mused: 

"  It  would  not  need  any  prettier  world 
than  this  to  make  an  Aideii,  if  we  who  live 
in  it  were  different.  There  are  days  when  I 
feel  like  being  kind  and  helpful  to  everyone, 
and  then  everything  about  me  looks  fairly 
radiant;  even  my  master  unbends  and 
ceases  to  growl  at  me.  Then  there  are  other 
days — oh,  how  they  drag!  I  feel  dissatisfied 
with  everything.  My  work  all  goes  wrong, 
my  graving  tools  slip  and  work  mischief,  I 
feel  almost  like  murdering  old  Vitellis,  and 
will  not  even  praise  the  nice  dish  Salome 
has  helped  prepare  for  my  supper!  Yet 
everything  is  just  the  same  as  it  was  the 
day  before,  only  I  am  different.  So  it  is 
plain  enough  to  see  that  when  I  feel  right 
all  is  right.  I  must  consult  the  oracle  about 
that  and  see  if  there  is  nothing— no  charm 
or  talisman  I  can  use — to  keep  me  feeling  so. 
But  alas!"— he  ceased  whistling,  to  sigh, 
— "  those  oracles  are  so  vague  I  cannot  half 
the  time  make  out  just  what  they  mean. 
They  tell  me  to  ask  the  gods,  and  so  I  de- 
but there  are  so  many!  I  sometimes  think 
I  have  never  really  hit  upon  my  special 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPI. 


33 


patron,  because  they  do  not  seem  to  hear 
when  I  call.  I  suppose,  if  I  had  gone  into 
the  priesthood,  as  I  once  thought  of  doing, 
I  should  know  more  about  all  these  things, 
but  they  do  puzzle  me  now." 

He  reached  Neapolis  some  time  before 
noon,  and  found  that  the  galley  which  was 
to  bring  the  gold  had  been  detained  off 
Samothracia  by  a  pestilence  that  had 
broken  out  among  the  slaves  at  the  oars, 
and  had  just  been  permitted  to  enter  the  bay 
and  discharge  its  freight  by  means  of  light- 
ers, this  very  morning.  So,  until  the  small 
barges  had  accomplished  their  work  of  un- 
loading, he  had  nothing  to  do  but  lounge 
about,  and  secure  a  porter  to  help  him  carry 
the  gold  and  protect  it,  in  its  conveyance  to 
Philippi. 

For  a  long  time  he  stood  on  the  high 
promontory  overlooking  the  sea,  and 
watched  the  busy  harbor— a  brilliant  sight 
to  see  on  a  fair  summer's  morning.  But,  at 
last,  hunger  called  him  back  into  the  town, 
and  he  was  soon  munching  his  bread  and 
fruit  at  an  open  booth,  on  the  lookout  for  a 
certain  Nubian  porter  whom  he  knew. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait  before  the  tall, 
massively-built  fellow  came  down  the 
street,  his  white  turban  towering  above  all 
those  he  met,  his  good-natured  face  like  an 
ebony  carving  below  it. 

"  Salve!  Welcome!"  cried  the  boy,  run- 
ning to  meet  him.  "  Come,  Aram,  I  have 
business  for  you.  and  we  can  get  about  it 
soon  now,  I  think." 

"  'Tis  well,"  said  the  black  slave,  showing 
a  set  of  perfect  teeth  in  his  broad  smile. 
"  It  has  been  a  dull  time,  Master  Herklas, 
and  I  am  glad  to  earn  a  stater.  What  will 
there  be  to  carry?" 

"  Gold  in  the  nugget,"  said  the  boy. 

"  Ha!  Then  let  us  hasten,  that  we  may 
have  full  daylight  for  the  journey,  for  they 
say  the  mountain  brigands  have  been  out 
in  force  lately,  and  I  want  no  meetings  with 
them." 

"  Well,  come  on  then,"  said  Herklas  care- 
lessly. "  We  will  see  if  the  freight  is  all 
in  by  this  time.  As  for  the  brigands,  if  they 
know  anything  they  will  keep  in  the  shade, 
for  there  is  a  fresh  troop  of  guards  at  our 
Castle,  just  brought  by  some  Roman  gen- 
eral, and  they  will  give  sharp  chase  to  those 
marauders  some  day." 

Still  talking,  they  returned  to  the  pier, 
where,  after  an  hour  or  two  of  delay,  they 
were  enabled  to  secure  the  gold  and  start 
out  for  Philippi,  with  the  treasure  well  hid- 


den in  their  loose  girdles,  beneath  which 
they  also  carried  dirks  of  tempered  edge. 

It  was  late  afternoon  when  they  left  the 
seaport  town.  As  usual,  at  that  hour,  the 
broad  Roman  highway  close  to  the  city 
gates  was  well  filled.  Merchant  traders 
carrying  their  goods  up  into  the  interior,  or 
agriculturists  bringing  their  products  for 
shipment  to  south  and  west;  soldiers  who 
had  been  on  a  furlough  of  a  day,  hastening 
back  to  the  fort  before  evening  roll  call; 
pagan  priests  in  perpetual  journeyings  to 
and  fro,  looking  well  after  their  offerings; 
workmen  seeking  employment;  pleasure  par- 
ties; and  always  the  ragged,  filthy,  traveling 
mendicants,  begging  or  stealing  their  way. 

As  they  trudged  along  over  the  rising 
ground,  Herklas  fell  into  conversation  with 
two  other  young  men  whose  looks  pleased 
him.  They  were  from  Jerusalem,  and  talked 
intelligently  of  their  magnificent  home  city, 
while  Herklas  listened  with  open  ears, 
being  a  youth  who  was  glad  to  pick  up  in- 
formation whenever  and  wherever  he  could. 
He  soon  found  they  were  of  the  sect  called 
of  late,  for  brevity's  sake,  "  Christians,"  the 
name  having  been  first  used  at  Autioch, 
whence  it  rapidly  spread  in  all  directions. 
He  had  heard  such  distorted  accounts  of 
them  hitherto,  that  he  was  surprised  to  find 
these  men  exceptionally  courteous,  well-in- 
formed, and  friendly,  and  he  began  to  ask 
some  questions  concerning  their  faith. 

He  soon  learned  they  were  of  the  number 
who  had  been  "  scattered  abroad  upon  the 
persecutions  that  arose  about  Stephen,"  and 
who,  after  Barnabas  had  taken  charge  of 
the  growing  church  in  Antioch,  determined 
to  press  on  farther,  carrying  wares  to  sell 
through  the  upper  country,  and  telling  the 
glad  tidings  as  opportunity  offered  by  the 
way.  They  were  not  Apostles,  nor  ordained 
Evangelists,  like  their  more  learned  breth- 
ren soon  to  arrive  at  this  port,  but  humble 
followers  of  their  beloved  Christ,  who  could 
find  no  happier  task  than  telling  the  story 
of  the  Cross  to  any  who  would  listen. 

Herklas  heard  it  this  day,  as  they  kept 
pace  together,  their  long  shadows  stretch- 
ing at  their  sides  where  they  kept  the 
northerly  direction,  with  the  fresh  sea 
breeze  at  their  backs,  while  they  crossed  the 
ridge  and  entered  the  famed  battle-field  of 
nearly  a  century  before,  rich  in  its  running 
streams.  He  listened  and  his  boyish  heart 
received  an  impression  such  as  had  never 
reached  it  before. 

To  think  that  God  should  take  upon  Him- 


34 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPI. 


self  the  form  of  man!  And  for  what?  To 
prove  He  could  feel  for  the  poorest,  the 
humblest,  the  most  sinful!— for  did  not  these 
men  say  that  Jesus  confessed  to  being 
"  tempted  like  as  we  are "  ?  To  show  us 
there  is  no  glory  like  that  of  giving,  no 
power  like  that  of  loving;  to  save  us— not 
from  the  wrath  of  gods  like  Vulcan  or  Pluto, 
but  from  our  own  wretched,  torturing 
selves!  To  bear  our  burdens,  to  heal  our 
infirmities,  to  understand  our  sore  trials  and 
temptations. 

"  Why,  we  need  not  fear  such  a  God  as 
that!  We— yes,  we  could  be  real  friends 
with  Him,  even!"  cried  Herklas  suddenly, 
in  a  tone  of  wondering  awe. 

The  young  men  smiled,  and  one  whom  his 
companion  called  Amasa,  said  gently: 

" '  Henceforth  I  call  you  not  servants;  I 
have  called  you  friends.'  " 

"Who  said  that?"  asked  Herklas  quickly. 

"  Christ,  our  Lord,"  was  the  reverent  an- 
swer. 

To  some,  belief  comes  slowly  and  pain- 
fully, born  of  the  throes  of  doubt  and  diffi- 
culty; to  some  in  despair  and  shrinking, 
with  Fear  whipping  the  reason  into  sub- 
jection; to  some  instantly,  fully,  and  with 
joy,  like  the  sunburst  through  a  gray  cloud. 
In  this  way  it  came  to  Herklas.  He  had 
long  questioned  of  his  own  gods,  his  heart 
hungry  after  truth,  and  now  he  threw  his 
soul  wide  to  the  welcome  Light,  and  cried: 

"Oh,  may  I  be  His  friend?  May  I  love 
Him,  walk  with  Him;  help  Him  do  for  men 
as  He  did  when  here  in  the  body?  May  I, 
Amasa?" 

The  young  man  turned  and  looked  into  the 
enraptured  face  of  the  youthful  questioner, 
glowing  in  the  pink  glory  of  the  sunset 
radiance.  The  thought  thrilled  through  him 
that  here  was  one  who  had  not  come,  like 
so  many,  dragged  by  pains  and  infirmities, 
but  rather  bringing  treasures  of  youth, 
hope,  work,  and  life  to  offer.  The  boy  must 
fully  know  what  he  was  doing,  so  Amasa 
slowly,  gravely,  told  him  what  would  be  ex- 
pected of  Christ's  friends — that  they  must 
even  drink  the  cup  that  He  drank  of— the 
cup  of  sacrifice,  loneliness,  poverty  not  only, 
but  of  persecution  and  possibly  death  itself. 
Was  he  ready?  "  Could  you  endure  all  these 
for  the  sake  of  the  Christ?"  asked  the  man 
in  a  deep  voice.  "  Remember  He  said, 
Himself,  '  He  that  loveth  father  or  mother, 
brother  or  sister,  more  than  me,  is  not 
worthy  of  me.'  And  again,  '  He  that  taketh 
not  up  his  cross  and  followeth  after  me,  is 


not  worthy  of  me.'  Can  you  forsake  all- 
business  opportunities,  pleasures,  family, 
home,  and  perhaps  life,  for  Christ?" 

Herklas  did  not  answer  at  first.  Truly 
these  considerations  were  weighty  with  a 
lad  happily  surrounded,  well  loved,  and  with 
brightest  prospects  for  the  future.  Gravely 
he  paced  along  with  his  now  silent  compan- 
ions, the  Nubian  toiling  after,  well  loaded 
with  the  gold,  and  some  rich  stuffs  from 
Damascus,  consigned  to  a  Philippian  mer- 
chant. 

But  the  love  that  had  so  suddenly  sprung 
into  life  within  the  boy's  soul  was  no  feeble 
plant,  to  die  with  the  first  breath  of  cold 
air.  He  felt  it  grow  stronger,  surer,  more 
steady,  and  pure,  with  every  step  he  took. 
They  were  now  on  the  plain,  and  here 
Herklas  met  the  tide  in  his  affairs  for  time 
and  eternity  which  would  lead  to  God. 

He  turned  presently,  stopping  in  his  walk, 
and  the  others  stopped  also,  listening  for 
what  he  might  say.  His  ruddy  cheek  had 
paled  a  little,  but  in  his  eyes  shone  a  clear 
and  steady  light. 

"  I  am  young,"  he  said,  "  and  not  very 
bold,  nor  strong,  but " — he  drew  in  a  long 
breath — "  for  such  a  Friend  I  can  risk  all. 
Yes,  I  accept  the  work.  I  will  be  His!" 


CHAPTER   X. 
HERKLAS  AND  HIS  COMPANIONS. 

THE  little  company  had  lingered  as  they 
talked,  and  the  Nubian  was  growing 
impatient. 

"  I  want  to  get  by  the  place  of  tombs  be- 
fore darkness  falls,"  he  said,  "  for  that  is  a 
favorite  lurking-ground  for  these  hill  folk, 
and  we  are  but  a  small  party,  Master  Herk- 
las." 

"  We  are  stronger  than  you  think  for, 
Aram,"  was  the  boy's  significant  answer  to 
this  low-spoken  warning. 

"  Yes,  with  these  two — but  will  they 
fight?"  asked  the  practical  Nubian. 

Herklas  smiled.  "  I  was  not  thinking  of 
them,"  he  said,  "  but  I  believe  they  would 
help  us  defend  life  and  property,  surely." 

Even  as  he  spoke  the  silent  Jew,  whom 
they  called  Thallus,  suddenly  raised  a  hand. 

"Listen!"  he  said;  and  responsive  to  his 
gesture,  each  one  stopped  and  stood  intent 
and  watchful.  "You  hear  it?"  he  asked  in 
a  quick,  low  tone,  "  the  thud  of  horses'  feet 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


35 


on  a  run?  It  is  no  caravan  train.  Come  into 
this  clump  of  willows  and  wait." 

He  led  them  down  the  sloping  bank  of  the 
stream  they  were  still  following,  into  the 
little  thicket  of  half-grown  trees,  all  yellow- 
green  in  their  spring  livery,  which  had  not 
as  yet  deepened  into  summer's  hue.  They 
had  scarcely  entered  its  soft  twilight  shade 
when  the  thunder  of  hoofs  grew  louder,  and 
in  another  instant  a  swarthy  band,  armed 
with  lance  and  spear,  went  dashing  by  on 
the  run.  They  looked  neither  to  the  right 
nor  left,  but  were  making  straight  for  the 
highlands,  where,  protected  by  the  ridge, 
they  could  work  their  way  in  roundabout 
fashion  to  their  home  caverns  in  the  moun- 
tains. 

Their  faces  were  stern  and  set,  but  among 
them  Herklas  saw  one  that  made  him  shud- 
der, for  he  was  a  captive  and  young.  His 
long  hair  swept  back  from  a  face  gray  as 
ashes,  and  his  teeth  glittered  between  lips 
tense  and  parted.  He  was  bound  to  his 
horse,  which  was  led  by  a  fierce-looking 
brigand,  and  he  swayed  to  and  fro  in  the 
saddle,  rigid  as  a  corpse,  held  only  by  the 
thongs,  for  pain  and  fright  seemed  to  have 
bereft  him  of  his  senses. 

It  was  but  a  glimpse  and  they  were  gone! 

"They  are  pursued!"  whispered  Thallus, 
as  soon  as  the  fleeing  riders  had  been  swal- 
lowed up  in  the  twilight  shadows;  "but  let 
us  keep  still  until  we  see  what  it  all  means." 

A  moment  later  came  a  second  troupe,  all 
agleam  with  bronze  and  steel,  as  could  still 
be  noted  in  the  fading  light— evidently  a 
portion  of  the  Roman  guard  from  the 
Castle.  They  too  had  been  pressing  straight 
forward,  but  just  here  made  a  detour  to  the 
right,  across  plain  and  intersecting  streams, 
evidently  with  the  intention  of  cutting  off 
the  robber  band  at  some  opening  in  the 
hills,  as  it  was  manifestly  impossible  to 
overtake  the  daring  riders  on  level  ground. 

When  both  troupes  had  disappeared  in  a 
cloud  of  dust,  our  four  travelers  emerged 
from  their  retreat  and  proceeded  in  security, 
but  not  a  quarter  of  a  mile  beyond  they 
came  upon  a  scene  which  made  even  the 
Nubian  cry: 

"Well  for  us  we  were  detained!" 

A  small  party,  like  themselves,  had  evi- 
dently been  lately  plundered.  The  ground 
was  strewn  with  fragments  of  their  mer- 
chandise, and  the  proofs  of  a  fierce  struggle 
were  many.  No  doubt  some  of  this  company 
had  escaped  to  rouse  the  garrison,  but  one, 
at  least,  had  been  taken,  and  their  goods  de- 


stroyed, or  plundered.  It  was  certain  now, 
however,  that  all  danger  was  over  for  that 
night,  and  our  friends  soon  entered  the  wel- 
come gates  of  rhilippi,  without  further  ad- 
venture. 

Here  Herklas  dismissed  the  Nubian,  pay- 
ing his  price,  and  bade  his  new  friends  a 
brief  good-by,  for  he  felt  that  before  joining 
his  fortunes  with  theirs,  he  must  report  to 
his  master,  Vitellis,  deliver  the  gold,  and  in- 
form him  of  his  intention*  to  leave  his  ser- 
vice. This,  somewhat  to  the  boy's  surprise, 
proved  a  rather  difficult  task,  for  Vitellis, 
who  was  old  and  deliberate,  could  not  seem 
at  once  to  comprehend,  and  was  very  loth  to 
let  him  go.  Herklas  had  not  supposed  he 
would  care — for  the  goldsmith  had  often  cen- 
sured, but  seldom  praised  his  work — and 
was  now  both  gratified  and  troubled  to  see 
that  he  really  clung  to  his  late  apprentice. 

"What  would  you?"  he  cried  sharply,  as 
he  eyed  the  youth  with  an  astonished  gaze. 
"  You  have  your  holidays,  one  suit  a  year, 
and  your  wage,  do  you  not?  You  are  not 
bound  to  me  by  law,  so  I  never  beat  you; 
and  at  the  meal  you  eat  with  my  family — are 
you  not  one  with  them?  Do  you  think  your- 
self called  and  chosen  of  the  gods,  that  you 
give  this  up  so  easily?" 

The  eyes  of  Herklas  lit  up  at  this  expres- 
sion. It  was  common  enough,  to  be  sure, 
but  it  meant  a  great  deal  to  him  this  day. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  gravely,  "  I  am  called  of 
God." 

Vitellis  started.  "Would  you  be  a  priest? 
'Tis  foolish!"  The  old  man  spoke  with 
warmth.  "  You  have  no  learning — no  money. 
You  would  be  but  a  mendicant,  footsore, 
weary,  and  homeless.  It  is  not  a  comfort- 
able lot,  and  there  are  many.  Let  those  go 
who  will  not  work.  Good  tradesmen  are  al- 
ways needed  to  keep  their  scrips  supplied. 
I  never  refuse  my  offering  to  the  wandering 
priests,  but  I— I  do  not  envy  them." 

Herklas  shook  his  head.  "  You  do  not  un- 
derstand me,  master.  I  shall  be  no  priest. 
I  am  going  with  honest  traders,  and  I  too 
shall  work  as  they  do;  but  I  have  a  message 
to  take— a  message  for  Jesus  the  Christ." 

He  brought  out  the  name  boldly,  and  his 
master  fairly  jumped. 

"For  Christus?  For  that  sorcerer  of 
Jerusalem,  who  was  crucified  with  thieves? 
Are  you  mad?  Know  you  not  our  great 
Claudiup  Caesar  has  a  horror  of  these  new 
sects  and  their  pretensions?  Do  you  court 
imprisonment,  torture — perhaps  death,  my 


36 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


Herklas  felt  he  was  making  his  first  stand 
in  the  new  life.  "  I  do  not  court  them — no, 
master — but  if  they  come  I  shall  be  ready.  I 
love  Christ.  He  lived  for  me — He  died  for 
me.  I  wish  to  follow  the  example  He  set, 
and  give  all  in  return;  for  in  giving  all,  do  1 
not  receive  all?  Let  me  go,  master,  with 
your  blessing." 

The  old  man  gazed  at  him.  He  was  no 
enthusiast  in  his  pagan  belief.  He  was  a 
hard-headed  busftess  man,  not  given  to  fine 
words  or  deep  thoughts,  but  with  a  simple 
creed  of  minding  his  own  affairs  and  letting 
the  rest  of  the  world  mind  theirs.  It  never 
occurred  to  him  that  these  might  be  in  one 
sense  his  affairs,  also.  Such  an  idea  as  re- 
signing his  shop,  his  home,  his  daily  round 
of  narrow  duties  and  pleasures,  for  the  mere 
purpose  of  winning  people  to  better  ways  of 
thinking  and  living,  could  never  occur  to 
him.  But  in  the  face  of  this  young  proselyte 
he  saw  something  that  awed  him  and  kept 
back  the  ironical  laughter  which  Herklas 
had  expected  to  hear. 

"Well,  well!"  he  muttered  at  last,  "the 
world  progresses!  If,  at  your  age,  I  had 
had  your  chance,  not  all  the  religions  on 
earth  could  have  drawn  me  away.  But  you 
are  different." 

"  Good-by,  then,"  said  Herklas  gently, 
making  a  salaam  full  of  reverent  affection. 

"  Farewell,"  said  the  old  man  gravely. 
Then  raising  his  hands  above  the  bowed 
head,  he  murmured: 

"The  gods— your  God  counsel  you,  boy!" 
and  turning  abruptly,  walked  away  into  his 
own  apartments  behind  the  smithy,  leaving 
Herklas  free  to  depart  forever. 

Fi'om  thence  the  boy  expected  to  go 
directly  home,  but  as  he  sped  through  a 
narrow  street  near  by,  he  met  Thai!  us  and 
Amasa  again,  also  hurrying  along,  with 
anxiety  upon  their  faces. 

"Ah,  here  he  is!"  cried  the  latter,  adding 
quickly  and  joyfully,  "Well  met,  Herklas! 
We  must  depart  at  once  for  Amphipolis,  we 
find,  and  we  were  about  seeking  you  to  ask 
if  you  would  join  us." 

"  Now— this  minute?"  cried  Herklas.  "  I 
hare  not  told  my  brother  and  sister  yet." 

"  It  must  be  now,"  said  Amasa;  "  the  mer- 
chant train  is  ready  to  start,  and  we  must 
ti'avel  with  it  this  night  for  safety." 

"  But—"  began  the  boy  again,  when 
Thallus  sternly  interrupted: 

"  Jesus  said,  '  No  man,  having  put  his 
hand  to  the  plow,  and  looking  back,  is  fit 
for  the  kingdom  of  God.'  " 


Herklas  bowed  to  the  rebuke.  "  I  go,"  he 
said  briefly;  "  lead  on."  And  after  a  mo- 
ment he  added,  "  I  have  neither  a  change  of 
raiment,  nor  have  I  money." 

"  Fear  not,"  said  Amasa,  in  his  bright  way; 
"  we  Christians  always  share  with  each 
other.  '  The  earth  is  the  Lord's,  and  the 
fullness  thereof.'  Will  He  not  see  that  your 
body  is  cared  for,  when  your  heart  and  life 
are  given  to  Him?  Come  with  us  and  fear 
nothing." 

So  Herklas  went,  consoling  himself  with 
the  thought  that  Hector  would  inquire  for 
him  of  Vitellis,  who  would  let  his  brother 
know  that  he  was  alive  and  well,  at  least. 

"  And  Amphipolis  is  only  thirty  miles 
away,"  he  murmured.  "  I  shall  soon  re- 
turn." 

But  it  was  over  a  fortnight  that  Herklas 
spent  wandering  along  that  populous  sea- 
coast  with  his  new  friends,  the  trio  being 
soon  joined  by  a  fourth,  a  Syrian  named 
Cyrus,  who  was  as  unlike  Thallus  and 
Amasa  as  they  were  unlike  each  other. 

He  was  between  them  in  age,  small,  keen, 
brave,  and  ardent,  yet  with  a  vein  of 
shrewdness  which  made  him  resent  impos- 
ture, or  oppression.  He  had  been  slow  to 
believe,  but  having  given  himself,  the  sur- 
render was  complete;  even  Herklas  had  no 
greater  zeal.  Yet  in  many  ways  the  lad  far 
surpassed  his  companions.  He  had  an  inde- 
finable charm  of  manner,  which,  added  to  a 
face  and  figure  such  as  even  the  usual 
Greek— famed  the  world  over  for  perfection 
of  form— might  envy,  gave  him  a  subtle 
power  to  attract  and  win  friends.  Then  he 
was  a  natural  orator.  All  untrained  though 
he  was,  the  street  crowds  listened  eagerly  to 
his  every  word,  and  the  slow,  stern  Thallus 
and  plain,  good-natured  Amasa — even  the 
keen,  witty  Cyrus — watched  with  wonder  his 
compelling  power  and  resistless  energy. 

But  while  recognizing  this,  they  felt  no 
envy.  Each  gave  his  all  to  Christ.  If  his 
endowments  were  not  so  great  as  another's, 
that  was  not  for  him  to  worry  over.  God 
had  created  him  as  he  was  for  some  wise 
purpose,  and  if  he  could  not  do  one  thing, 
he  could  another.  WThen  one's  life  becomes 
in  its  possessor's  eyes  but  a  part  of  a  great 
plan,  conceived  by  Wisdom  far  surpassing 
his  own,  such  trifles  as  envy,  disappointed 
ambition,  and  failing  powers  are  as  nothing. 

The  time  slipped  by  quickly  enough  to  the 
youth — more  so  than  to  his  friends  at  home, 
who  could  get  little  information  out  of  the 
taciturn  old  Vitellis,  except  that  Herklas 


THE    WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LIP  PI. 


37 


had  left  his  service,  and  was  well  when  he 
did  so,  always  ending  his  gruff  answers  to 
anxious  questions  by  the  words,  which  they 
could  not  rightly  understand  at  that  time: 
"  Ask  the  Christians — not  me.  Perhaps  they 
have  bewitched  him!"  after  which  he  would 
turn  back  to  his  work,  and  refuse  to  speak 
further. 

Amid  a  roving  people,  in  an  equable  cli- 
mate, where  private  correspondence  is  al- 
most unknown,  family  bonds  are  readily 
made  and  easily  broken.  The  poor  have  lit- 
tle to  anchor  them,  and  when  work  fails  in 
one  locality,  it  is  no  trouble  to  drift  to  an- 
other. Herklas  had  often  been  sent  up- 
country  for  days  at  a  time,  and  he  had  no 
thought  that  his  dear  onos  would  feel 
anxious;  nor  did  they  until  Salome  conceived 
the  idea  of  his  being  bewitched,  as  we  have 
seen.  Still,  the  affectionate  boy  was  glad 
when  word  was  passed  to  return  to  Neapolis 
for  a  time,  in  order  to  meet  Paul  and  Silas 
there,  and  he  took  the  occasion  to  hurry 
away  at  the  break  of  dawn  to  his  own  be- 
loved Philippi,  bounding  with  light  steps  over 
the  few  intervening  miles,  because  he  was 
once  again  to  see  his  dear  Salome  and  brave 
Hector,  and  beg  their  sanction  of  his  new 
plans.  But  it  was  while  Salome  lay  ill  and 
poor  Hector  was  in  prison  that  he  thus 
hastily  returned  and  could  find  no  one  to  tell 
him  a  word  of  either,  though  little  Nadab, 
had  he  but  spoken,  might  have  enlightened 
him  concerning  his  sister,  at  least. 

For  the  few  hours  he  had  to  spare  he  wan- 
dered about,  vainly  seeking  them,  to  leave 
word  with  a  neighbor,  finally,  as  to  his  own 
whereabouts  before  he  returned  to  his  new 
friends.  This  neighbor,  however,  had  also 
left  the  city  when  Salome  was  seeking  her 
brothers,  and  so  it  was  that  a  series  of  petty 
accidents,  apparently,  kept  the  three  apart. 

Herklas  and  his  companions  were  in  the 
surrounding  country  several  days,  and  it 
was  as  they  were  returning  to  Neapolis, 
after  a  short  tour  amid  the  farmers  of  the 
foothills,  that  they  wrere  overtaken  by  the 
storm  and  sought  shelter  in  the  cave,  just 
in  time  for  Herklas  to  come  to  poor,  shiver- 
ing, scared  Agistha's  aid. 

When,  the  next  morning,  the  girl  awoke 
from  her  sound,  sweet  sleep  it  was  to  find 
herself  alone,  with  the  bright  sunlight  shin- 
ing into  the  low  opening  of  the  cave.  She 
sat  up  and  looked  about  her  in  the  strange 
daze  that  one  feels  on  awakening  in  an  un- 
accustomed spot.  But  slowly  memory  re- 


turned, and  bit  by  bit  she  recalled  the  chain 
of  incidents  which  had  terminated  in  this 
cavern. 

It  seemed  to  her  as  if  for  years  she  had 
been  wandering  in  a  sort  of  evil  dream, 
in  which  impure  influences  made  her  say 
and  do  things  she  neither  desired  nor  under- 
stood. She  felt  she  had  been  sadly  abused, 
and  that  always  worse  when  she  tried  to  re- 
sist the  influence  and  be  her  better  self. 
When  her  masters  told  her  she  was  losing 
her  power,  they  beat  and  starved  her  until 
the  strange  trances  enwrapped  her  again 
and  she  was  ready  to  shout  her  crazy  utter- 
ances as  they  desired.  It  had  been  a  dread- 
ful time!  All  the  more  dreadful  because 
away  back — ages,  it  seemed  to  her, — she 
could  vaguely  remember  such  different 
things— a  garden,  a  cool  court  with  a  fount- 
ain, and  a  little  child— was  it  herself  ?— play- 
ing happily  about  its  marble  basin. 

No,  that  part  must  be  either  a  dream  or 
something  she  had  once  seen  in  those  weari- 
some journeys  they  were  always  taking  from 
place  to  place.  How  wretched  they  were! 

But  worse  than  all,  was  that  trouble  in  her 
head;  those  long,  dazed  spaces  when  she  was 
not  herself,  but  some  one  else,  yet  when  by 
snatches  she  realized  that  everything  was 
wrong.  Before  she  could  right  herself,  how- 
ever, she  would  again  lose  the  thread  she 
had  barely  caught,  and  sink  off  into  chaos 
once  more.  Now,  for  the  first  time  her  head 
was  clear  and  cool,  and  had  been  growing 
so  for  many  hours;  in  fact,  ever  since  the 
day— she  could  not  place  the  date— when,  as 
she  was  ranting  at  the  top  of  her  voice,  two 
men  had  passed  by  on  the  street,  and  she 
had  seen  them  in  a  flash  of  sense  and  reason 
and  been  impelled  to  cry  out:  "These  men 
are  the  servants  of  the  Most  High  God." 

She  had  thus  followed  them  more  than 
once  until— was  it  yesterday,  or  the  day  be- 
fore, or  a  week  ago? — one  had  turned,  and 
in  a  stern  voice  commanded  the  evil  spirit 
to  come  out  of  her.  She  only  knew  that 
something  seemed  to  snap  and  rend  in  her 
brain,  after  which  she  had,  as  it  were, 
awakened,  her  head  and  sight  clear,  her  un- 
derstanding bright,  while  a  great  loathing  of 
her  former  state  took  possession  of  her. 
From  that  minute  she  could  not  "  prophesy," 
no  matter  how  her  masters  might  coax,  or 
scold.  Her  understanding  was  too  clear, 
she  saw  realities  too  plainly  for  visions  or 
lunacies,  and  they  were  left  to  lament  her 
lost  power.  But  she  was  like  a  new  crea- 
ture, though  weary — oh,  weary  unto  death,  it 


38 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHILIP  PL 


seemed!  "Rest  I  must  have,"  was  all  she 
could  say.  "  Rest!"  And  she  had  sought 
the  roof  of  their  miserable  lodging-house  to 
lie  down  and  sleep,  too  ill  to  mind  threats 
or  kicks,  in  that  utter  exhaustion  of  body 
and  spirit. 

She  could  remember  no  more  until  that 
dreary  awakening  on  the  bier,  in  the  moon- 
light. He  fatigue  must  have  thrown  her 
into  a  sleep  so  near  like  death  that  no  one 
could  tell  the  difference,  and— what  had  it 
brought  her  to? 

She  looked  around  again,  and  her  eyes, 
accustomed  now  to  the  dim  light,  saw  there 
was  food  close  at  her  side,  spread  neatly  on 
a  bit  of  scrip-cloth.  She  partook  with  relish 
of  the  wafer-like  bread,  dried  fish,  and  fruit, 
and  felt  the  better  for  the  meal,  which  was 
abundant  and  satisfying.  "  But,"  thought 
she,  gaining  courage  with  strength,  "  I  am 
thirsty  now.  I  will  go  outside  and  see  if 
water  can  be  found  near  by;  learn  too,  if 
possible,  where  I  am  and  what  next  I  must 
do.  One  thing— I  will  not  return  to  my 
wicked  masters  if  I  can  help  it,  for  some 
great  Spirit  stronger  than  the  Python,  even, 
has  broken  their  evil  dominion  over  me,  and 
given  me  clear  sight  and  sense  again." 

She  rose,  crawled  to  the  cave  opening,  and 
looked  timidly  around.  It  was  a  glorious 
morning,  and  the  blue  sky  was  scarcely 
broken  by  a  cloud.  Directly  before  her  lay 
a  plain,  stretching  away  into  gently  rising 
ground  at  her  right.  At  her  left  were  the 
city  walls,  no  long  distance  off,  rising 
sturdily  against  the  soft  background  of  an 
undulating  range  of  mountains,  and  clos6 
about  her  was  a  rough  bit  of  ground,  bushy 
and  boulder-strewn,  leveled  from  the  cliff- 
like  hill  in  which  these  tombs  and  caves 
were  excavated. 

A  little  spring  issued  from  the  hillside  near 
by,  and  trickled  away  in  a  tiny  rill  into  a 
larger  stream  crossing  the  plain.  But  no 
person  was  near.  Even  the  highway  built 
by  Rome,  which  gleamed  white  in  the  near 
distance,  was  quite  deserted  at  this  minute. 
She  was  all  alone. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

AT  THERMAE  AND  CASTLE. 

WHEN  Hector  found  himself  free  once 
more  he  could  have  leaped  for  joy, 
though    his    limbs    were    stiff    from 
long  confinement,  and  sore  from  the  rusty 


fetters.  As  he  drew  in  long  breaths  of  the 
outer  air  and  blinked  his  half -blinded  eyes  in 
the  glorious  sunshine,  his  heart  bounded  in 
gratitude,  and  half  involuntarily  he  said  to 
himself,  as  he  looked  upward: 

"  For  this  I  could  thank  the  great  God 
who  loosed  my  fetters  and  those  of  the  two 
men  of  Christ,  last  night.  I  could  even 
thank  the  Christ  who  seems  to  be  their 
Friend.  He  must  be  greater  than  our  gods, 
and  certainly  He  is  nearer  and  dearer  to 
their  hearts  than  any  go'd  has  been  to  mine." 

Hector  walked  away  from  the  busy  forum 
full  of  these  thoughts,  his  feet  making 
straight  for  home,  where,  ever  since  his  talk 
with  the  young  lord  in  the  prison,  he  had 
fondly  hoped  to  find  Salome.  But  when  he 
reached  the  tiny  house  within  the  wall  he 
found  it  empty  and  chill.  Salome  was  not 
there.  Upon  investigation,  however,  he 
found  that  her  clothing  was  gone,  which  was 
proof  positive  that  she  had  been  back  since 
that  dreadful  night,  unless— a  surmise  oc- 
curred to  him  which  darkened  his  face  again 
— unless  Persis,  the  slave  girl,  had  taken  the 
garments  and  fled.  If  so,  that  young 
patrician  had  not  been  right  about  Salome's 
escape,  after  all.  And  indeed  how  should  he 
be  so  certain?  Could  he  know  everything 
that  went  on  inside  those  garrisoned  walls? 
Of  course  not! 

There  seemed  but  one  thing  left  him,  and 
that  was  to  go,  as  directed,  to  the  Castle, 
show  his  signet  ring,  and  see  what  good  or 
ill  fortune  awaited  him  there.  But  before 
doing  that,  he  must  remove  the  marks  of 
the  dungeon;  he  must  visit  the  baths  and 
provide  himself  with  fresh  raiment. 

He  found  his  own  clothing  undisturbed, 
and,  selecting  his  best  sleeveless  undervest, 
the  loin  cloth,  toga,  and  buskins,  which 
formed  the  street  attire  of  one  of  his  station, 
he  betook  himself  to  a  great  building  adjoin- 
ing the  forum,  in  which  were  the  public 
baths  of  Philippi.  These  were  under  the 
same  roof  with  the  gymnasium  in  which 
Hector  was  a  pupil,  and  he  therefore  had  the 
privilege  of  private  baths,  with  an  attend- 
ant free,  while  ordinarily  the  poorer  classes 
must  content  themselves  with  the  great 
swimming  pool,  or  natatorium,  and  depend 
upon  their  own  exertions  for  the  showerings, 
rubbings,  and  scrapings,  which  accom- 
panied, or  followed,  the  immersion.  Even 
the  smaller  towns  boasted  fine  baths,  and 
that  at  Philippi  was  modeled  upon  those  at 
Rome,  though  far  smaller,  less  pretentious, 
and  freer  from  ornamentation. 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


39 


As  Hector  reached  the  large  stone  struc- 
ture he  entered  first  an  open  court,  fitted 
with  long  stone  benches  at  either  side,  which 
were  shaded  from  the  hot  sun  by  a  portico 
supported  on  Doric  columns.  Here  were 
always  groups  of  men  lounging  and  gossip- 
ing as  they  awaited  their  turn  to  enter  the 
thermae.  Hector  recognized  several  of  them, 
this  morning,  but  feeling  ashamed  to  be 
seen  in  his  present  woeful  condition,  he  hur- 
ried by  with  bent  head  through  a  vestibule 
and  short  corridor,  into  a  small  room  beyond, 
called  the  frigidarium.  Here  pegs  in  the 
wall  offered  a  convenient  place  for  hanging 
one's  garments,  but  as  it  was  only  for  the 
use  of  those  going  into  the  natatorium,  or 
large  common  bath,  Hector  hurried  through 
into  an  apartment  close  by,  serving  the  same 
purpose  for  a  private  bather  who  wished  the 
hot  tank,  with  an  attendant's  service,  for 
which  a  small  fee  was  demanded. 

Here  a  young  page  was  in  charge  who. 
after  saluting  Hector  with  a  wondering  look, 
hurried  off  at  once  to  summon  the  attendant 
he  knew  was  desired,  for  the  gymnavSt  being 
an  almost  daily  frequenter  of  the  baths,  the 
boy  needed  no  directions  in  his  service. 

Hector  hurriedly  disrobed,  kicking  his 
stained  and  ill-smelling  garments  into  a  cor- 
ner for  the  boy  to  burn,  then  passed  into  the 
next  apartment.  Soon  his  attendant  ap- 
peared, smiling  and  ready.  He  wore  nothing 
but  a  breech-cloth,  and  over  his  arm  hung 
the  great  rough  towels  used  by  all  bathers. 

"Ah,  Hermes!"  said  Hector  pleasantly, 
"  hurry  with  your  ointments,  for  I  am  stiff 
and  sore." 

"Indeed!"  cried  the  other  briskly,  begin- 
ning to  set  out  a  row  of  tiny  phials,  pots, 
and  pestles,  with  thin,  crescent-shaped 
articles  of  shell,  upon  the  marble  slab  jut- 
ting from  the  wall.  "Indeed!  Been  wrest- 
ling again,  have  you?  I  hope  you  were  not 
thro— hah!  What's  this?" 

He  looked  up  keenly.  Those  red  welts  on 
wrists  and  ankles  never  came  from  wrest- 
ling. 

Hector  flushed  warmly.  "Be  gentle,  boy! 
Your  lightest  touch  is  painful.  I  see  you 
understand.  Yes,  I  have  been  in  prison." 

"But  why?  I  cannot  understand  that! 
Hector,  the  Olympionic,  in  a  dungeon!  That 
is  passing  strange." 

Our  friend  briefly  explained,  and  the 
youth,  while  tenderly  anointing  the  raw 
parts,  looked  the  sympathy  and  indignation 
he  felt,  for  he  was  fond  of  this  bather,  and 
greatly  admired  his  splendid  strength  and 


courage.  As  the  narration  ended  he  broke 
out  bitterly: 

"  It  is  of  no  use  to  be  honest  in  these  days 
— that  does  not  serve!  Let  one  try  all  his 
life  and  yet  by  ever  so  little  offend  some 
patrician,  and  click!— the  dark  doors  shut 
you  in.  and  there  you  lie  to  rot,  forgotten. 
'  The  gods  have  memory  only  for  the  great, 
and  the  great  have  memory  only  for  those 
who  can  serve  them,'— that's  the  truest  thing 
Seneca  has  said  yet." 

Hector  was  silent.  Should  he  tell  about 
this  God  of  whom  he  had  heard  so  lately, 
who  sought  out  the  poor  and  walked  with 
them— who  chose  them  out  of  all  the  world 
for  His  friends?  But  just  then  Hermes  rose 
to  his  feet,  his  task  accomplished,  and  Hec- 
tor was  ready  for  the  caldarium. 

This  long  and  narrow  apartment  was  en- 
tirely of  marble,  its  walls  being  laid  double, 
that  the  space  between  might  serve  as  flues, 
to  conduct  the  hot  air  from  the  furnace  be- 
neath to  every  inch  of  the  chamber.  At  its 
further  end  was  the  bath-tub,  a  shallow  cis- 
tern twice  as  long  as  a  man,  and  about  four 
feet  wide.  It  was  raised  above  the  floor  so 
that  Hector  had  to  mount  two  steps  to  reach 
it,  the  top  step  forming  a  seat,  while  all 
around  the  inside  ran  a  ledge,  which  also 
served  as  a  resting-place. 

Upon  this  the  young  man  placed  himself, 
while  Hermes  poured  over  his  head  and 
shoulders  large  vases  of  the  warm  water 
from  the  great  cauldrons  opposite,  which 
were  placed  directly  over  the  furnace. 

"There,  that's  enough!"  cried  Hector  at 
last,  as  he  plunged  gayly  into  the  now  well- 
filled  tub.  "  Oh.  this  makes  me  feel  like  a 
new  man!  It  has  taken  all  the  smart  out  of 
my  body,  and  the  stiffness  too.  Be  prepared, 
Hermes;  I  must  have  such  a  scraping  and 
pounding  as  you  do  not  often  give  me,  I  tell 
you!" 

The  attendant  laughed.  "  I  am  ready  for 
you,"  he  said,  as  Hector  stepped  from  the 
tub,  or  alveus,  into  the  labrum,  a  huge 
saucer-like  receptacle  of  white  marble  into 
wrhich  led  a  pipe  which  threw  up  a  forceful 
stream  of  cold  water  that  descended  in  a 
spray  upon  his  shoulders.  Its  cold  dash  was 
allowed  but  for  an  instant,  then  Hermes 
caught  up  his  great  toAvel  and  quickly  dried 
the  bather,  afterwards  placing  him  upon  a 
marble  slab  at  full  length.  Here  he  first 
plied  the  horn  or  shell  scrapers,  thin  half- 
rounds  that  left  the  flesh  smooth  as  ivory, 
and  then  added  the  poundings,  punchings, 
shippings,  and  rubbings,  which  gave  both 


40 


THE  WBESTLEB  OF  PHILIPPL 


flesh  and  muscle  the  pliancy  and  perfection 
of  an  infant's,  with  the  hard  endurance  of 
the  man's. 

Thoroughly  refreshed,  and  clean  in  every 
pore,  his  hair  cut  short  in  gymnast  fashion 
and  daintily  perfumed,  Hector  finally  issued 
from  the  great  building  feeling  that  the 
prison  taint  was  removed  from  body,  if  not 
from  soul,  and  stepped  off  at  a  brisk  pace, 
prepared  to  pusn  his  fortunes  with  energy. 

It  was  something  of  a  walk  to  the  Castle, 
which  connected  with  the  fort  that  guarded 
the  south-western  wall,  but  he  enjoyed  every 
step  of  the  way,  feeling  as  never  before  the 
beauty  of  earth  and  sky,  and  the  blessing  of 
simple  freedom,  with  pure  air  to  breathe, 
and  sunshine  to  bask  in. 

He  climbed  the  ascent  and  reached  the 
outer  gate,  guarded  by  two  stalwart  soldiers, 
whose  helmets  and  spears  glistened  in  the 
sunlight.  As  he  approached  they  crossed 
spears  before  the  gate,  and  awaited  him. 
He  made  known  his  somewhat  vague 
errand: 

"  I  was  bidden  by  a  young  lord  to  call 
here  this  morning.  Here  is  his  signet  ring 
that  I  was  to  show." 

He  handed  it  to  one  of  the  guards,  who 
gave  it  a  glance,  nodded,  and  passed  it  over 
to  his  fellow. 

"  Aulus  Clotius!"  said  he,  and  rang  a  sud- 
den call  by  striking  spear  and  breastplate 
sharply  together,  even  as  the  other  threw 
one  leaf  of  the  bronze  gate  wide  open  and, 
returning  the  ring,  bade  Hector  pass  in. 

A  page  now  stood  before  him  who  ex- 
amined the  ring,  said  briefly,  "  Follow  me!" 
and  conducted  the  visitor  across  a  broad 
court  to  an  outer  stair  leading  to  an  entrance 
in  one  of  the  many  turrets  of  the  Castle. 

Up  these  marble  steps  the  richly-clad  page 
lightly  tripped,  then  opened  a  heavy  door 
into  a  tiled  vestibule.  Across  this  Hector 
followed  him  into  a  large  apartment  with  a 
raised,  richly-covered  dais  nearly  surround- 
ing it,  and  a  small  fountain  playing  in  the 
center.  Several  curtains  of  Tyrian  purple, 
heavy  with  embroidery  of  gold  thread,  indi- 
cated entrances  into  adjoining  rooms,  while 
between  gleamed  exquisite  marble  statuary, 
shown  off  the  better  by  pedestals  of 
malachite  and  ebony.  All  the  light  there 
was  filtered  through  many-tinted  sheets  of 
mica  in  the  great  dome  above,  and  surround- 
ing this  tower-room  at  a  goodly  height  was 
a  gallery  guarded  by  a  balustrade  of  richly- 
carved  cedar,  from  which  like  apartments 
seemed  to  open. 


Hector,  who  had  been  bidden  to  wait  in 
the  large,  round  room,  decided  these  must 
be  small,  probably  mere  alcoves  serving  for 
private  apartments,  and  lighted  by  the  slits 
of  windows  he  had  observed  without.  Was 
it  from  one  of  these  the  voice  had  ordered 
him  to  prison?  He  was  just  considering  the 
rather  startling  suggestion,  when  one  of  the 
curtains  on  the  gallery  was  flung  aside  and 
the  young  man  of  the  prison  came  out  and 
leisurely  descended  the  stairs,  which  began 
in  two  flights,  to  meet  in  a  few  broad  steps 
at  the  base.  He  was  carelessly  dressed  and 
his  long  curls  were  tumbled,  as  if  he  had 
been  lying  down.  In  fact,  he  looked  sleepy 
still.  Hector  concluded  he  had  been  mak- 
ing up  for  an  unusually  early  rising  by  a 
forenoon  nap.  And  he  was  right. 

"Well,  my  man,  you  are  prompt!"  said 
the  patrician,  half  pettishly,  as  if  not  relish- 
ing the  disturbance.  "  But  "—looking  him 
over  with  critical  admiration—"  you  can 
never  be  the  prisoner  with  whom  I  left  my 
ring?" 

"  I  am  he,  sire,"  said  Hector,  salaaming. 

The  other  laughed.  "  To  be  sui-e  it  was 
too  dark  to  see  plainly  there,  but— well, 
well!  who  would  believe  that  mere  externals 
could  make  such  a  difference?  I  thought 
you  a  big,  strong  fellow;  now  you  look  like 
a  statue  by  Phidias— but  there!  I  must  not 
make  you  vain.  And  now  tell  me,  you  found 
your  sister  safe  at  home,  of  course?" 

"  No,  sire,  she  was  not  there." 

"  What?  Really,  this  surprises  me!  She 
certainly  is  not  here,  and  never  has  been.  I 
have  made  diligent  inquiries,  and  no  one  has 
seen  her  since  that  night." 

"  Her  clothing  is  gone,"  said  Hector,  look- 
ing thoughtful,  "  though  that  might  have 
been  stolen  by  the  slave  girl.  I  believe  she 
was  none  too  honest.  But  I  begin  to  hope 
Salome  has  found  protection  somewhere.  I 
will  make  inquiries  among  the  neighbors." 

"  Yes,  that  will  be  best.  I  understand  you 
are  a  Wrestler,  and  have  twice  won  the 
Olympic  crown." 

"  It  is  true." 

"  And  is  this  glory  so  much  to  you  that  you 
could  never  exchange  it  for  any  other?" 

"  What  other?"  asked  Hector  quickly. 

"  That  of  a  soldier." 

Hector's  eyes  flashed.  "  This  has  served 
me,  sire,  so  long  as  I  could  down  all  who 
were  pitted  against  me,"  showing  his  white 
teeth  in  a  broad  smile;  "  but  the  soldier's 
glory— that  is  lasting!  And  Rome  is  liberal 
to  her  brave  men  on  the  field." 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


41 


"True!  'Tis  pity,  though,  you  were  not 
Roman  born,  for  you  would  make  a  soldier 
to  delight  Mars,  I  wager.  You  are  a  Mace- 
donian by  birth?" 

"  A  Thracian,  sire." 

"  Of  Greek  parentage?" 

Hector  bowed,  while  the  other  looked  him 
over  with  a  lingering  glance.  "  I  should 
hate  to  spoil  you  by  making  a  mere  courtier 
of  you,"  he  finally  remarked,  as  if  he  were 
speaking  about  his  guest  to  some  one  else. 
"  And  yet,  I  like  you.  I  would  gladly  at- 
tach you  to  my  household— by  the  way,  do 
you  know  who  I  am,  boy?" 

"  I  overheard  the  guard  at  the  gate  mut- 
ter '  Aulus  Clotius,'  and  I  hoped  you  might 
indeed  be  that  gallant  young  officer  of  whom 
the  people  say,  '  He  is  bright,  but  he  never 
knows  when  he  is  beaten.'  " 

The  other  laughed  and  flushed,  well 
pleased  at  the  rough  compliment.  "  The 
people  know  something,  if  I  do  not!"  he 
cried,  gayly.  "  But  that  is  only  one  side  of 
the  tale.  Do  they  not  also  say  this  foolish 
soldier  is  rusting  in  inaction  and  becoming 
simply  a  weak  favorite  of  his  master, 
Claudius?" 

It  was  Hector's  turn  to  flush,  now.  He 
hesitated  an  instant,  then  answered:  "  They 
say,  sire,  your  talent  for  music  is  as  great 
as  for  fighting,  and  that  pleases  the  young 
Nero  so  well  that  he  would  keep  your  sword 
rusting  if  he  could.  Yet  Aulus  Clotius  is 
again  the  soldier,  is  he  not?"  glancing  about 
the  Castle  chamber  significantly. 

"  Ah,  you'll  make  a  courtier  after  all!" 
laughed  the  other.  "  But  be  not  too  ready, 
my  boy;  the  real  warrior  has  no  fine  phrases, 
you  know.  And,  bah!  do  these  look  like  sol- 
dier trappings?"  waving  a  hand  over  the 
rich  apartment.  "  No,  no!  Nowadays  luxury 
creeps  even  into  garrisons  like  this,  and  the 
days  go  by  idly  enough  when  Rome  has 
nothing  to  do  but  count  her  kingly  prisoners 
and  celebrate  her  too  easy  triumphs."  He 
gave  a  quick  sigh,  shook  back  his  disordered 
locks,  frowned  a  little,  then  burst  into  a  gay 
laugh.  "But  come!  we  will  make  the  most 
of  it  all  wherever  we  may  be.  Say,  boy,  will 
you  go  with  me  to  Rome?" 

To  Rome!  Hector's  eyes  grew  large.  It 
was  the  dream  of  his  life  to  visit  that  mag- 
nificent capital— a  dream  he  had  never  ex- 
pected to  realize.  He  thought'  of  Salome, 
of  Herklas— both  apparently  lost  to  him; 
then  he  let  his  thoughts  center  on  self.  To 
go  to  Rome  with  Aulus  Clotius! — to  see  its 
wealth,  grandeur,  gayety!  To  be  one  of  a 


patrician  household— perhaps  a  favorite!  To 
be  at  Court  and  a  part  of  that  regal,  luxuri- 
ous existence! 

"Will  I  go,  sire?"  he  cried  with  a  laugh  of 
delight.  "But  give  me  the  chance  and  see!" 

"  It  pleases  you  so?" — eying  him  with  a 
sort  of  scornful  surprise.  "  Is  it  the  thought 
of  its  luxury  or  its  glory.  I  wonder?  Well, 
both  are  myths  to  a  great  extent.  But  why 
should  I  moralize  over  the  foolish  boy,  when 
I  am  as  like  him  as  one  javelin  is  like  an- 
other? Yes,  Rome  is  a  great  city— and  a 
wicked  one.  No  wonder  the  idea  delights 
you!  What  is  your  name,  boy?  I  foi'get." 

"  Hector." 

"That  promises  well  for  a  hero,  anyhow; 
but  nobody  ever  does  live  up  to  a  heroic 
name,  more's  the  pity!  I  am  to  start  to- 
morrow with  a  large  escort.  Be  re.acly,  and 
meanwhile — but  have  you  breakfasted?" 

"  In  the  prison,  sire;"  making  a  rueful 
face. 

The  patrician  laughed  amusedly.  "  Its 
memory  is  not  enchanting,  I  see.  But  we 
can  mend  all  that.  My  favorites  do  not 
starve  on  lentils  and  dried  fish,  I  promise 
you!" 

He  clapped  his  hands,  and  the  page  en- 
tered, bowing  low  before  his  master. 

"  tsee  that  this  man  is  well  fed  and 
lodged,"  he  said  briefly;  then  carelessly  wav- 
ing them  away,  he  departed  into  one  of  the 
adjoining  rooms. 

Hector  followed  the  page  down  the  outer 
stair  and  around  the  tower,  to  a  court  in 
the  rear,  where  a  row  of  shed-like  buildings 
bespoke  the  quarters  of  the  men.  At  the 
end  of  the  row  was  the  kitchen,  a  large  open 
place,  covered  only  with  tent-cloth,  its  sides 
entirely  open  to  the  breeze.  He  was  sharply 
hungry,  and  the  smell  of  the  pottage  steam- 
ing in  a  great  kettle  over  a  fire  built  in  the 
depression  made  in  the  hard  paving,  came 
with  most  agreeable  sensations  to  his  nos- 
trils. He  was  about  to  stop  and  take  a  seat 
on  the  stone  bench  near  by,  where  two 
guards,  just  relieved  from  duty,  were  enjoy- 
ing a  gourd  full  of  the  soup,  sipping  it  in 
great  gulps,  when  the  page  called  him  on- 
ward. 

"  Is  that  a  place  for  one  of  Aulus  Clotius' 
favorites  to  eat?"  he  asked  disdainfully, 
and,  turning  through  a  narrow  door  in  an 
intervening  wall,  finally  stopped  before  the 
fine  bronze  door  of  a  long  building  well 
arched  and  windowed.  It  was  two  stories  in 
height,  and  above  it  was  a  dome-like  sky- 
light similar  to  that  in  the  tower.  It  was, 


42 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPL 


in  fact,  the  banqueting  hall  reserved  for 
special  suites  from  imperial  Rome,  its 
second  story  being  a  gallery  for  dancing  and 
music,  or  for  spectacles  and  athletic  games, 
if  desired. 

Hector  took  in  at  a  glance  the  noble  apart- 
ment, finished  in  carved  woods  highly  pol- 
ished, with  a  raised  dais  at  one  end,  where 
the  half-round  table  was  surrounded  by  rich 
couches,  and  the  longer,  plainer  board  below, 
with  benches  at  the  sides. 

"  Sit  here,"  said  the  page,  placing  him  a 
short  distance  below  the  dais,  "  and  I  will 
call  some  one  to  serve  you." 

Hector  obeyed  in  a  sort  of  daze.  Soon  the 
page  returned  with  a  white-capped  attend- 
ant, who,  in  an  obsequious  voice,  began 
naming  over  the  dishes  at  the  new-comer's 
disposal.  The  somewhat  bewildered  young 
man  modestly  mentioned  a  few  which  had 
always  seemed  great  luxuries  to  him,  and 
soon  found  them  smoking  before  him.  The 
page  meanwuile  lolled  indolently  near  by, 
and  asked  questions,  which  Hector  managed 
to  answer  between  mouthfuls  with  the  good- 
humor  engendered  by  satisfaction. 

"Have  you  finished  at  last?"  he  cried 
saucily,  as  Hector  swallowed  the  final 
crumbs  of  his  repast,  and  wiped  his  lips. 
"  If  you  have,  I  will  show  you  where  the 
men  of  our  company  sleep.  It  is  in  the  left 
wing." 

He  hurried  Hector  along  from  this  build- 
ing to  another,  which  joined  the  Castle  it- 
self. It  was  a  long  wing  divided  into 
small  apartments. 

"  Here,"  said  he,  "  is  where  my  master's 
special  suite  lies.  You  will  of  course  have 
a  bed-fello^— may  he  prove  a  pleasant  one! 
Make  yourself  at  home,  and  keep  .your  own 
counsel.  That  is  the  rule  at  Court." 

Still  laughing,  he  turned,  and,  throwing 
up  his  hand  in  the  fashion  of  the  Bedouin 
who  meets  a  friend  in  the  desert,  he  sped 
briskly  away  to  his  light  but  often  galling 
duties  in  the  tower. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  HOME  OP  A  ROMAN  PATRICIAN. 

HECTOR'S  day  passed  rapidly,  and  but 
a  short  time  was  left  for  making  his 
inquiries    about    Salome,    which,    not 
being  rightly  directed,  proved  futile.    As  he 


came  back  towards  the  Castle  he  acain  saw 
the  two  Christians  of  the  prison.  They  were 
across  the  street,  walking  rapidly  towards 
one  of  the  city  gates,  being  on  their  way  to 
the  little  synagogue  beyond  the  walls,  for 
the  second  service  of  the  market  day.  Had 
he  seen  them  in  the  early  morning  nothing 
could  have  kept  him  from  their  side,  but 
since  then,  all-engrossing  worldly  plans  had 
stepped  in,  and  while  he  stood  hesitating 
they  disappeared. 

ij.ad  he  spoken  to  them  they  would  doubt- 
less have  invited  him  to  the  service,  and  had 
he  gone  he  would  have  met  his  sister  there, 
and  his  whole  after-life  might  have  been 
different.  But  his  new  ambitions  held  him 
captive,  and  he  was  led  by  them  and  not  by 
God. 

Early  the  next  morning  Aulus  Clotius  and 
his  train  started  on  the  long  journey  to 
Rome.  They  made  the  short  march  to 
Xeapolis,  and  there  took  ship  for  the  re- 
mainder of  the  distance.  Hector  found  him- 
self hastily  fitted  out  with  a  uniform  and 
horse,  and  he  was  proud  to  see  that  he 
formed  one  of  the  special  body-guard  of  ten 
who  rode  in  close  proximity  to  the  young 
chief,  at  the  head  of  the  train. 

Just  behind  this  gleaming  cohort  of 
spearsmen  were  two  or  three  litters,  also 
specially  guarded,  in  which  Hector  learned 
there  were  ladies,  and  behind  them  marched 
a  large  band  of  slaves,  porters,  and  attend- 
ants, to  the  number  of  perhaps  a  hundred, 
while  still  beyond  trailed  a  miscellaneous 
company  of  laden  asses,  camels,  and  pedes- 
trians, merchant  traders  or  mendicants,  who 
gladly  joined  the  cavalcade  for  sociability 
and  protection. 

The  garrison  band  accompanied  them  for 
a  mile  or  so,  waking  the  echoes  with  its 
stirring  strains,  and  as  Hector  rode  leisurely 
along,  carried  so  easily  by  his  trained  animal 
that  he  almost  forgot  he  did  not  know  how 
to  ride,  he  felt  that  life  was  opening  most 
brilliantly  before  him,  and  his  pulses 
bounded  in  time  with  the  stirring  beat  of 
drum  and  blast  of  trumpet. 

Every  one  they  met  on  the  broad  highway 
stopped  to  gaze  at  the  brilliant  sight,  and 
many  a  cheer  greeted  the  brave  young  leader 
who  rode  so  proudly  at  their  head. 

In  this  pride  Hector  participated.  If  he 
was  not  the  sun  he  was  certainly  close  to  it, 
and  as  a  satellite  he  absorbed  some  of  the 
adfhation.  and  swelled  with  pride  and  vain- 
glory. Thus  they  rode  into  Neapolis,  the 
town  turning  out  to  view  the  brave  sight, 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPI. 


43 


and  took  their  way  directly  to  the  pier, 
where  lay  the  galleys  in  readiness  to  convey 
them  to  Rome.  Hector  had  never  taken  a 
sea  voyage,  and  the  very  sight  and  smell  of 
the  blue,  billowing  waves  stretching  far  as 
sight  could  reach,  filled  him  with  delight. 
The  wide  harbor,  glittering  in  the  morning 
sunshine,  was  filled  with  every  sort  of  craft, 
from  the  blunt-prowed  junks  of  the  fisher- 
men to  the  graceful  Roman  ships,  with  their 
great  gilded  figure-heads  and  pointed  bows. 

"  This  is  to  live!"  the  youth  thought,  as,  at 
a  quickly-spoken  order,  he  brought  his  horse 
around  alongside  several  others  to  help  form 
the  double  line  through  which  the  company 
were  to  pass  as  they  embarked. 

But  after  he  had  sat  motionless  as  a  statue 
in  the  blazing  heat  for  nearly  an  hour,  his 
raptures  were  modified.  In  fact,  he  con- 
cluded that  so  much  ceremony  was 
monotonous  and  unnecessary!  First,  the 
ladies  were  embarked.  There  were  several 
of  these — the  young  wife  of  Aulus,  Julia  by 
name,  his  mother,  Pamphylia,  and  their 
ladies-in-waiting — who  were  led  across  the 
gang-plank  into  a  finely-appointed  galley 
which  floated  the  imperial  colors.  Next  the 
house  slaves  and  stores  were  placed  in  a 
second  less  pretentious  boat,  and  lastly  the 
guards  were  divided  between  the  two.  Hec- 
tor being  among  those  consigned  to  the  royal 
galley. 

It  was  a  relief  *to  quit  the  saddle  and  take 
his  place  in  the  stern,  on  a  level  with  a  bank 
of  oarsmen,  where  he  could  watch  their 
every  motion.  Yet  often  during  the  journey 
he  turned  away,  sick  at  heart,  from  this 
sight,  for  their  broad  bare  backs  were  scored 
with  the  lash,  and  down  their  haggard  faces 
the  sweat  of  their  arduous  toil  poured  like 
rain. 

"  It  is  a  hard  world  for  them,"  he  mut- 
tered often,  "  even  if  they  deserve  their  pun- 
ishment. I  wonder  what  they  are  thinking 
behind  those  brown,  sullen  faces  all  these 
long  hours  of  labor,  when  they  bend  to  the 
oars  like  machines  rather  than  men.  Does 
hope  still  beckon  them  on,  and  do  they  count 
the  days  till  they  are  released?  But  if  the 
release  comes  only  with  death—" 

Then  sometimes  came  the  flashing  memory 
of  those  two  Apostles  in  prison.  Under 
scourging  and  torture  they  were  not  only 
brave  and  patient— they  were  triumphantly 
glad!  It  was  a  puzzle  beyond  his  solving. 
He  wished  now  he  had  sought  them  out  and 
talked  with  them.  There  were  so  many 
things  he  would  like  to  ask  in  these  lung, 


lazy  hours  when  there  was  little  to  do  but 
speculate  and  dream. 

But  when  he  reached  the  great  metropolis, 
such  musings  vanished  in  the  wonder  and 
delight  of  looking  and  living  at  this  center  of 
the  world.  As  he  once  more  rode  by  his 
master's  side  and  gazed  out  over  the  teem- 
ing streets,  with  their  magnificent  buildings, 
giving  every  evidence  of  unlimited  wealth 
and  power,  he  again  swelled  with  exulta- 
tion at  being  one  of  the  gorgeous  mass,  and 
cared  little  for  the  sufferings  of  other  atoms. 

The  stately  palace  reserved  for  the  use  of 
Aulus  Clotius  and  his  household  formed  a 
part  of  that  great  agglomeration  of  build- 
ings known  as  the  "  royal  mansions,"  and 
was-  directly  guarded  and  officered  by  the 
Emperor  himself.  It  was  now  52  A.  D.,  and 
Claudius  had  been  eleven  years  upon  the 
throne,  a  welcome  successor  of  the  detested 
Caligula,  who  during  his  short  reign  man- 
aged to  make  himself  hated  by  all  sects,  but 
especially  by  the  Jews,  whom  he  had  perse- 
cuted from  Jerusalem  to  Joppa,  with  every 
form  of  indignity  his  evil  mind  could  con- 
jure up.  If  Claudius  was  not  much  more  of 
a  man,  in  many  particulars,  he  was  at  least 
not  a  monster,  and  his  faults  were  those 
of  weakness  rather  than  tyranny.  Indeed, 
he  was  entirely  under  the  control  of  his  wife, 
Agrippiua,  the  beautiful  but  unscrupulous 
daughter  of  the  brave  old  general,  Ger- 
mauicus,  and  she  was  already  plotting  to 
make  Nero,  her  son  by  her  former  husband, 
his  successor,  rather  than  Claudius'  own 
boy,  Brittanicus,  who  was  a  few  years 
younger  than  his  step-brother. 

Nero  was  fifteen,  a  fair,  curly-haired  youth 
of  a  seemingly  amiable  disposition,  and  with 
some  talent  and  great  taste  for  music  and 
poetry.  He  had  been  well  taught  by  his 
tutor,  the  wise  Seneca,  and  was  the  idol  of 
his  mother,  for  in  him  she  thought  she  saw 
the  docile  instrument  of  her  most  daring 
ambitions. 

For  a  few  days  Hector  found  little  to  do 
beyond  settling  himself  in  his  new  surround- 
ings. He  was  not  lodged  with  the  other 
guards  in  the  barracks,  but  had  a  room  in 
the  palace  which  was  comfortably  fitted  up, 
and  ate  at  the  table  in  the  great  hall,  where 
he.  with  several  other  favorites,  among 
whom  were  the  page  Lucian,  the  secretary 
Theophilus,  a  poet  or  two,  and  a  centurion, 
occupied  the  raised  dais  at  one  end  of  the 
long  table,  surrounded  by  couches,  the  rest 
of  the  household  being  accommodated  a  step 
below,  upon  stone  benches.  Occasionally 


44 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIP  PL 


their  young  lord  condescended  to  eat  with 
them,  but  not  often.  He  was,  indeed,  fre- 
quently a  guest  at  the  Emperor's  table,  and 
when  at  home  liked  best  to  sit  at  meat  in  a 
smaller  room,  most  luxuriously  fitted  up, 
where  only  his  immediate  family  and  friends 
were  present.  It  was  a  special  mark  of  favor 
to  be  invited  to  join  him  at  these  informal 
but  exquisitely  served  meals,  and  one  thus 
singled  out  was  puffed  up  with  pride  for  a 
week,  at  least. 

In  order  to  introduce  Hector  into  his 
household,  Aulus  had  appointed  him  to  an 
office  similar  to  that  of  groom  of  the  cham- 
bers, which  really  meant,  in  this  case,  that 
the  young  Greek  daily  trained  his  ambitious 
lord  in  athletics,  and  wrestled  with  him'  till 
the  latter  was  fain  to  cry,  "Enough!"  In 
the  two  or  three  hours  thus  spent  Hector 
always  felt  that  he  well  earned  all  these 
favors,  for  while  the  brave  Aulus  was  con- 
stantly crying  to  him  to  "  Lay  on!"  and  come 
at  him  harder,  the  Greek  knew  that  he  must 
not  leave  so  much  as  a  small  bump  on  that 
fair  flesh,  and  the  effort  to  "  seem  "  and  yet 
not  to  "  do  "  became  a  real  penance,  beside 
which  the  hearty  blows  he  received  in  return 
were  as  nothing. 

In  fact,  these  words  might  fitly  describe 
all  Hector's  life,  now,  and  that  of  most  of 
those  around  him.  It  was  brave  seeming, 
but  alas,  such  feeble  doing!  Even  Seneca, 
the  grave  and  reverend  philosopher,  soon  be- 
gan to  show  himself  insincere  in  the  youth's 
keen  eyes,  or  else  how  could  he  so  con- 
stantly write  and  talk  of  the  doctrine  of  ex- 
treme simplicity,  extolling  its  delights  by  the 
hour,  and  yet  revel  in  every  attainable 
luxury?  Did  he  not  own  those  much-prized 
tables  of  citron  wood  ending  in  ivory  feet, 
not  by  the  dozen  or  score,  but  by  the  hun- 
dreds? and  was  not  his  villa  set  down  amid 
gardens  which  on  one  occasion  had  even  ex- 
cited the  envy  of  an  Emperor?  Then  there 
was  Nero,  the  young  aspirant  to  the  purple. 
It  was  the  fashion  everywhere  to  praise  his 
beauty,  his  voice,  his  poems,  his  good  judg- 
ment, and  his  amiable  disposition.  Yet  Hec- 
tor soon  discovered  that  his  talents  were 
but  mediocre;  and  as  for  his  disposition,  it 
happened  one  day  that  a  slave  was  being 
whipped  in  the  court-yard  just  as  the  young 
prince  started  to  cross  it,  before  mounting 
his  horse. 

Hector,  watching,  saw  Nero  follow  the 
movements  of  the  lictor  and  his  whimper- 
ing charge,  a  mere  child,  then  stop  to  watch 
with  a  look  of  intense  satisfaction  the  prep- 


arations at  the  stake.  Hector  turned  away, 
tnen,  for  the  first  scream  of  the  poor  crea- 
ture was  enough  for  him,  but  a  moment  later 
he  was  startled  by  a  laugh,  and  glanced 
around  to  see  the  "  amiable  "  young  prince 
laughing  and  clapping  his  hands  at  every 
blow  of  the  cruel  lash,  in  a  perfect  ecstasy 
of  evil  enjoyment. 

From  that  day  the  boy's  softly-colored 
face,  though  wreathed  in  smiles,  was  to 
Hector  but  a  mask  for  a  cruel  heart,  and  no 
one  could  convince  him  that  the  idol  of 
Rome  and  the  toast  of  the  poets  was  not 
pitiless  to  the  core.  More:  he  was  certain 
that  Aulus  Clotius  felt  the  same,  though  self- 
interest  closed  his  lips.  For,  like  all  the 
others,  Aulus  was  brave  only  upon  the 
surface.  He  could  fight  like  a  tiger,  but  in 
this  courtly  atmosphere  he  was  weak  and 
cowardly  where  he  should  have  been  strong, 
effeminate  where  he  should  have  been  bold 
and  manly,  silent  where  he  should  have 
spoken  out  in  thunder  tones.  All  these 
things  the  Greek  felt  keenly,  and  they  often 
made  his  easy  life  a  burden  of  discontent 
and  self-disgust. 

Ere  long  he  had  so  completely  won  the 
confidence  of  his  master  that  he  was  given 
the  honorable  post  of  special  knight  to  the 
women  of  the  household,  whenever  they 
went  abroad.  At  the  head  of  from  two  to 
four  guards  he  attended  their  chariot,  or 
basterna,  and  in  this  office  the  faces  of 
Pamphylia  and  Julia  soon  became  familiar 
to  him. 

The  first-named  was  a  dignified,  gray- 
haired  matron  with  dark,  sad  eyes,  but  a 
beautiful  smile,  and  her  voice  was  plaint- 
ively sweet.  She  was  always  gentle,  and  it 
was  evident  that  the  gay,  bright  Julia,  the 
bride  of  a  year,  loved  her  well.  They  were 
constantly  together,  and  usually  accom- 
panied by  Julia's  nurse,  a  little  woman  full 
of  chatter,  and  Pamphylia's  companion. 
This  latter  was  a  young  captive  maid  from 
Gaul,  slender,  dark-eyed  and  agile,  with  the 
grace  and  also  the  timidity  of  a  fawn.  Some- 
thing about  her  vaguely  suggested  Salome  to 
Hector,  and  this  made  him  watch  her  more 
closely  than  he  might  otherwise  have  done, 
and  as  he  soon  became  a  great  favorite  with 
all  the  ladies,  he  often  found  opportunity  to 
exchange  a  word  or  two  with  her. 

One  day,  after  a  boxing  contest  with  his 
lord,  which  had  been  unusually  exhausting, 
Aulus  threw  himself,  panting,  upon  the 
couch  and,  after  watching  Hector,  still  fresh 
and  full-winded,  for  a  long  minute,  said: 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPI. 


45 


"Well,  my  boy,  that  was  pretty  well! 
Dost  note  how  much  stronger  I  am  getting? 
I  shall  make  you  puff  too  before  many 
days." 

Hector  only  smiled  slightly  at  the  banter, 
which  he  was  used  to,  and  the  other,  seeing 


was  naturally  kind-hearted— when  kindness 
was  no  trouble— so  he  said  gently: 

"  You  miss  her.  I  see." 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  breathed  Hector  under  his 
keen  eyes. 

"  I    know— I    understand!"    spoke    up    his 


'  No,  sire;  I  was  thinking— one  does  sometimes,  you  know." 


his  absent  manner,  went  on:  "Why,  what 
megrim  have  you  now?  Are  you  regretting 
the  Olympic  games?" 

"  No,  sire;  I  was  thinking — one  does  some- 
times, you  know— of  my  old  home  and 
friends." 

"Ah,  of  that  sister,  eh?  Verily,  it  is 
strange  where  she  hath  gone;  is  it  not, 
lad?" 

Hector  nodded.  The  homesick  tears  were 
so  close  that  he  could  not  speak.  Aulus  saw 
his  emotion  and  respected  it.  The  patrician 


master  quickly.  "  You  need  not  be  ashamed. 
Did  you  never  hear  about  my  sister,  Hec- 
tor?" 

"  Yours,  my  lord?  I  did  not  know  you 
ever  had  one." 

"  Yes,  it  was  years  ago."  Aulus  threw  his 
arms  above  his  head  and  gazed  up  at  the 
ceiling.  "  I  can  just  remember  her.  She 
was  three  years  my  junior,  and  I  thought 
her  my  special  charge,  for  she  was  a  tiny 
creature,  dainty  as  a  bird.  It  nearly  killed 
my  mother  Avhen  she — " 


46 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPL 


"  Died?"  cried  Hector  compassionately. 

"No,  no!  I  think  that  would  have  been 
easier  to  bear.  She  disappeared.  That  is 
all  we  know.  One  day  we  were  playing  in 
the  court,  and  I  ran  into  the  house  for  a  toy 
boat  I  wished  to  sail  in  the  fountain's  basin. 
"When  I  came  back  she  was  gone,  and 
though  we  sought  her  high  and  low,  spend- 
ing money  freely,  we  could  never  find  a 
trace  of  her.  Perhaps,  if  my  father  had 
been  living,  he  could  have  done  better  at  the 
search,  but  we  had  been  orphans  nearly  a 
year,  and  my  mother  was  young  and  inex- 
perienced. Her  hair  turned  gray  that  twelve- 
month, though  she  was  not  yet  twenty-five." 

"  Such  are  terrible  griefs!"  said  Hector 
feelingly.  "How  old  -was  the  child?" 

"  Barely  four,"  responded  Aulus  sadly. 
"  The  sweetest  baby  in  the  world.  We  called 
her  Cleone." 

Hector,  looking  sympathetically  at  his 
young  master,  thought  no  less  of  him  be- 
cause he  suddenly  brushed  the  back  of  his 
hand  across  his  eyes,  and  their  common 
grief  seemed  to  draw  them  more  closely  to- 
gether. He  stepped  to  his  side  and  said 
feelingly: 

"  The  brave  and  favored  must  have  their 
troubles  as  well  as  the  humble,  my  master. 
And  this  accounts  for  the  young  face  and 
white  locks  of  your  beautiful  mother." 

Aulus  turned  and  looked  at  him  affection- 
ately. "  Is't  not  a  dear  woman,  Hector?  I 
am  glad  you  admire  her,  for  she  likes  and 
trusts  you.  So,  too,  does  my  merry  Julia." 

"  Ah!  she  should  make  your  heart  sing  for 
joy.  my  lord.  Her  very  glance  is  sunshine." 

"  True,  true!  I  hope  I  shall  never  sadden 
her  with  my  wild  ways." 

At  this  moment  Lucian  the  page  appeared 
with  a  message  for  the  master.  "  Sire,  if 
you  are  ready.  Prince  Nero  wishes  to  con- 
sult you  in  regard  to  the  musicians'  stand 
they  are  erecting  for  the  spectacle.  Can  you 
attend  him  at  once?" 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
JUNIUS  FAB  ASTRAY. 

£>  ALOME  was  now  thoroughly  domesti- 
^S  cated  with  the  family  of  Junius  and 
^•^  Elizabeth.  She  had  no  more  hope  of 
seeing  her  brothers,  for  though  Junius 
finally  exerted  himself  enough  to  make  some 
inquiries  as  to  the  occupants  of  the  prison, 


the  keeper  knew  no  one  there  answering  to 
his  description.  This  was  not  strange,  for 
the  summary  manner  in  which  Hector  had 
been  assigned  to  him,  without  name  or  com- 
plaint, had  given  him  the  impression  that 
this  unruly  prisoner  was  a  slave,  an  impres- 
sion confirmed  by  his  abrupt  release  without 
trial,  all  at  the  command  of  one  man— for, 
as  the  reader  has  possibly  divined,  it  was 
Aulus  Clotius  who  had  sentenced  as  well  as 
released  him.  To  the  jailer,  therefore,  Hec- 
tor was  simply  the  Roman  slave  undergoing 
punishment.  Thus  the  inquiries  of  Junius 
were  answered  most  decidedly  in  the  nega- 
tive— the  more  so  because  this  man  was  no 
favorite  with  the  official. 

After  a  time  Salome  decided  to  give  up  the 
rental  of  the  little  house  and  remove  her 
few  belongings  to  her  new  home,  where  the 
addition  made  a  bright  and  pleasant  change. 
At  first  Junius  had  demurred  at  taking  in  a 
new  member,  but  as  days  passed  and  Salome 
proved  helpful  and  quick  to  learn  the  trade, 
he  made  no  further  objection,  and  the 
maiden,  having  never  known  of  his  hostile 
attitude,  was  as  unconscious  of  his  favor- 
able one,  for  Elizabeth  from  the  first  treated 
her  as  a  dear  and  welcome  sister. 

The  visit  of  Paul  and  his  companions,  with 
the  exciting  circumstances  attending  it,  had 
greatly  strengthened  the  little  church  of 
Philippi,  and  nearly  doubled  its  member- 
ship. The  converted  jailer  and  Lydia  proved 
active  and  influential  members,  bringing 
fresh  means  and  renown  into  the  assembly, 
and  Elizabeth,  though  so  quiet  and  humble, 
made  her  beautiful  beliefs  real  in  her  calm, 
consistent  life. 

Almost  insensibly  Salome  imbibed  her 
ideas  and  began  to  rule  her  conduct  by 
them,  and  as  in  their  frequent  talks  the  real 
meaning  of  Christ's  life  and  death  became 
instilled  into  her  brain,  so  did  its  divine 
spirit  and  power  take  possession  of  her 
heart,  until  she  was  almost  startled,  one 
day,  to  find  that  her  gods  had  become  mere 
myths  to  her,  and  that  Jesus  was  all-in-all. 

The  summer  was  nearly  over  when  she 
started  out  with  Nadab  one  afternoon,  to 
help  him  carry  a  lot  of  broad  and  shallov/ 
baskets  to  Lydia,  she  having  ordered  them 
for  the  bestowal  of  her  various  cloths  after 
dyeing,  pressing,  and  rolling  into  bales.  Al- 
most daily  there  were  processions  and  offer- 
ings in  acknowledgment  of  the  bountiful 
harvests,  and  one  of  these  blocked  their  way 
for  some  time,  not  at  all  to  their  regret,  for, 
though  neither  of  the  two  felt  any  religious 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIP  PL 


47 


Interest  in  It,  they  liked  to  watch  it  simply 
as  a  spectacle. 

"  See,  Nadab!  There  come  the  Vestals  all 
in  white  and  wreathed  with  wheat-ears— 
are  they  not  pretty!"  cried  Salome. 

"  Yes— and  look!  Is  not  that  a  fine  car  all 
covered  over  with  corn  and  grain?  Is  that 
Ceres  sitting  under  the  canopy?" 

"  Of  course.  And  that  figure  with  the  up- 
lifted horn  is  Fortuna,  and  that  on  the  oppo- 
site corner  with  the  fruit  is  Pomona,  while 
Dionysus  has  the  grapes  and  wine  cask, 
and—" 

"  Oh!  there,  there!  Is  not  that  Pan  with 
the  horns  and  goat's  beard  and  hoofs?  What 
a  noise  he  makes!  And  who  are  those, 
Salome?" 

"  They  are  Nymphs  and  Dryads.  They 
look  lovely  in  their  sea-green  and  grass- 
green  robes.  What  a  pretty  contrast  to 
those  rosy  Hours!" 

As  the  procession  moved  by,  there  was  a 
constant  din  of  pipe  and  timbrel,  with  the 
ringing  of  tambourines  and  the  clashing  of 
cymbals.  Into  the  midst  of  this  somewhat 
irregular  music  the  grotesque  Pan  broke, 
occasionally,  with  a  hideous  bellow,  partly 
from  his  own  strong  lungs,  partly  from  an 
oddly-shaped  wind-instrument  of  several 
reeds  fastened  together,  which  he  held  to  his 
lips,  meanwhile  cutting  some  clumsy  capers 
on  his  hoofs  that  sent  all  the  children  lining 
the  way  into  shrieks  of  laughter. 

He  who  represented  Dionysus  (or  Bacchus, 
as  the  Romans  called  him.)  had  also  a  part 
to  play  in  this  strange  religious  ceremony, 
for  every  little  while  he  drew  from  his  well- 
filled  wine  cask  a  gourd  full,  either  for  him- 
self or  some  favored  one  in  the  shouting, 
surging  crowd,  and  then  he  would  reel,  and 
leer,  and  drivel,  in  the  disgusting  semblance 
of  an  intoxicated  man. 

Salome  grew  thoughtful  as  she  watched 
the  long  line  file  by,  beginning  with  the  gay 
group  of  the  Hours,  dressed  all  in  rose 
color,  and  ending  with  a  dancing  trio  of 
Graces,  weaving  long  gayly-colored  sashes 
in  and  about  themselves  as  they  kept  up  a 
sort  of  swaying  movement,  in  time  to  the 
music.  These  constantly  changed  places  to 
form  new  groupings,  bewildering  the  eye 
with  their  airy  postures  and  kaleidoscopic 
hues.  When  the  last  of  the  brilliant  pageant 
had  vanished  in  the  dust-cloud  kicked  up  by 
their  many  dancing  feet,  she  walked  silently 
along  with  Nadab. 

"  What  is  there  in  all  that  to  help  one  in 
the  real  cares  and  sorrows  of  life?"  she  was 


thinking,  for  loss  and  disappointment  were 
aging  the  girl  rapidly.  "  It  is  a  pretty  show, 
it  amuses  for  a  moment— at  least  some  of  it— 
but  that  Dionysus  made  me  shudder!  I  am 
glad  Elizabeth  did  not  see  him.  I  fear  it 
would  bring  back  the  look  I  saw  on  her  face 
the  other  night,  when  Junius  reeled  home 
so  queer  and  cross.  How  can  people  laugh 
at  anything  so  sad  and  low!  How  can  they 
make  a  god  of  drunkenness!  Oh,  what  di.l 
you  say,  Nadab?  I  was  not  paying  atten- 
tion." 

"  I  was  saying  that  your  people  seem  to 
think  it  is  cunning  to  be  overcome  with 
wine,  but  mother  does  not.  She  thinks  it  is 
a  sinful,  dreadful  thing!" 

"  Do  not  say  '  my  people,'  "  said  Salome 
quickly.  "  I  belong  to  you  now." 

"  That  is  well,  sister!  You  are  ours  to 
keep,  art  not?  And  I  will  be  both  brothers 
in  one.  But  I  hope  father  will  not  see  that 
procession,  Salome." 

"  I  fear  he  will,  Nadab;  how  can  he  help 
it?  It  will  pass  around  and  through  the 
forum,  and  you  know  he  is  there  so  much." 

"  Yes,  of  course.  And  I  know  how  it  will 
be.  He  will  look  on  and  laugh,  and  then  he 
and  the  other  men  will  think  they  want 
some  wine,  too,  and  they  will  go  to  old 
^Enau's  shop  and  drink  till  they  are  not 
themselves  at  all.  It  is  too  bad,  Salome!" 

"It  is  too  bad!  I  see  that  plainly  enough, 
child.  How  can  anybody  think  such  prac- 
tices are  right?  Yet  a  few  months  ago  I 
firmly  believed  in  them,  myself.  But  once 
having  known  of  Christ,  such  impurities  re- 
volt me." 

They  found  Lydia  seated  in  the  large,  cool 
family  room  of  her  house.  Its  latticed  win- 
dows in  front  overhung  the  street,  and  in  the 
rear  opened  upon  a  terrace  leading  down 
into  the  garden.  Its  floor  was  tiled,  but  a 
few  rich  rugs  were  laid  about,  on  which 
cushions  were  piled  invitingly,  while,  follow- 
ing the  outward  curve  of  each  overhanging 
window,  was  a  broad,  well-cushioned  divan. 
A  marble  slab,  resting  upon  bending  figures 
cut  in  bronze,  was  in  the  center  and  held  a 
rose  jar  of  East  Indian  workmanship,  well 
filled  with  blossoms.  The  two  or  three 
oddly-shaped  chairs  were  sti'aight  and  trim, 
with  a  quantity  of  carving,  but  evidently 
more  for  show  than  use,  as  the  cushions, 
couches,  and  low  curving  ottomans  invited 
to  easier  positions,  while  the  stately  throne- 
like  chairs  were  seldom  used  except  in  en- 
tertaining with  greatest  ceremony  persons 
of  exalted  rank. 


48 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


Lydia,  who  was  seated  among  a  heap  of 
cushions  near  an  open  terrace  window,  spin- 
ning fine  wool  with  a  small  distaff  and 
wheel,  looked  up  with  a  pleasant  greeting, 
as  the  two  were  ushered  in  by  a  tiny  slave 
boy. 

"Ah!"  she  cried,  beckoning  Salome  to  a 
seat  close  by,  "  I  was  just  thinking  of  you. 
First,  because  we  need  the  baskets  at  once; 
and  second,  because  I  need  you." 

"  I  am  at  your  disposal,"  laughed  the 
maiden,  dropping  easily  into  a  nest  of 
cushions  by  the  other  window.  "  But  first 
let  me  tell  you  my  errand.  Elizabeth  says 
you  are  to  keep  out  two  denarii  of  the  money 
for  the  baskets,  to  send  to  our  Apostles, 
Paul  and  Silas,  at  Thessalonica.  It  is  all  we 
can  possibly  afford  this  time,  for  trade  is 
dull,  and—"  She  did  not  finish  her  sentence, 
but  with  a  hasty  glance  at  Nadab  changed 
confusedly  to  something  else. 

"  And  what,  Salome?"  asked  the  boy  curi- 
ously. 

"  Oh,  nothing  much.  It  will  soon  be  win- 
ter, and  then  there  is  fuel  to  buy,  and  Nadab 
here  needs  another  tallith,  naughty  fellow!" 
shaking  her  finger  at  him  merrily. 

The  answer  satisfied  him,  but  Lydia,  look- 
ing keenly  at  the  girl,  read  between  the 
lines.  She  too  turned  gayly  to  Nadab. 

"  I  see  you  are  getting  restless  indoors, 
like  all  boys,"  she  observed  with  a  laugh. 
"  Go  down  the  terrace,  my  son,  till  you  find 
my  pretty  Persian  cat,  Alanna,  and  have  a 
play  with  her.  She  will  chase  a  ball  and 
bring  it  back  in  her  teeth,  or  lie  flat  on  her 
back  and  pretend  to  be  dead." 

Nadab  was  off  before  the  sentence  was 
fairly  out,  and  the  woman  nodded  with 
satisfaction. 

"  I  thought  that  would  dispose  of  him. 
He  sees  too  much!"  Then  more  gravely, 
"  Salome,  what  is  the  trouble  at  your  house? 
You  know  I  ask  from  friendship,  not  idle 
curiosity.  Is  it  anything  I  can  help  about?" 

"  It  is  the  same  thing,  Lydia,  only  growing 
worse  all  the  time." 

"  You  mean  Junius?  Has  he  been  already 
discharged,  then?" 

"Discharged?"  The  girl  started.  "What 
do  you  mean?" 

"  Then  it  has  not  come  yet.  I  am  glad  for 
that!  But  it  will,  Salome.  He  is  certainly 
going  to  lose  his  position." 

"Oh,  oh!    Who  told  you?" 

"  Our  friend,  the  jailer.  He  says  it  will 
have  to  be.  Junius  neglects  his  chain-gan^ 
for  the  wine  shop,  and  leaves  them  to  do 


poor  work,  or  none  at  all.  The  street  com- 
missioners are  full  of  complaints.  Then,  of 
course,  the  poor  wretches  are  likely  to  es- 
cape, when  they  comprehend  his  constant 
condition,  and  that  menaces  public  safety. 
I  should  not  be  surprised  any  day  to  learn 
they  had  risen  up  and  overpowered  him." 

Salome  shivered.  "  Poor,  poor  Elizabeth! 
But  does  he  know  he  is  to  lose  his  place, 
Lydia?  Would  he  not  do  differently  if  he 
was  warned?" 

"  He  has  been  warned  and  threatened,  but 
I  do  not  think  he  fully  understands  just  how 
much  is  implied.  Remember,  I  am  telling 
you  in  confidence,  that  together  we  may  do 
something  in  the  matter.  I  do  not  want 
Elizabeth  to  know,  yet.  She  is  deeply 
troubled  as  it  is — or  would  be  but  for  her 
perfect  trust  in  the  wisdom  of  Christ,  who 
would  not  willingly  afflict  her— and  I  would 
spare  her  further  worry." 

"  But  what  can  we  do?" 

"  I  intend  to  talk  to  him,  to  begin  with," 
said  Lydia  with  decision.  "  It  is  not  a  com- 
mon thing  for  a  woman  to  admonish  a  man. 
I  know,  but  for  that  very  reason  it  may 
prove  effectual.  As  for  you,  simply  be  good 
to  her— relieve  her  of  all  you  can  in  work 
and  care,  and  keep  up  her  spirits  by  con- 
stantly recalling  the  one  subject  she  so 
dearly  loves.  I  see  nothing  else,  only," — she 
rose  and  stepped  to  a  tiny  cabinet  of  ebony 
upon  the  wall,  and,  unlocking  its  wee  door, 
drew  forth  a  silken  purse.  "  Here,"  she 
said,  "  is  the  money  for  the  baskets— all  of 
it.  Tell  her  I  ask  as  a  favor  to  send  her  con- 
tribution this  time." 

"  Oh.  she  will  object!"  said  the  girl. 

"  She  ought  not.  Are  we  not  one  in  Christ? 
I  have  been  prospered  of  God,  only  that  I 
may  assist  those  who  have  heavier  burdens 
to  bear.  Surely  you  remember  Christ's  com- 
mand—'  Bear  ye  one  another's  burdens'? 
That  is  binding  upon  her  as  well  as  me, 
for  how  can  I  share  her  burden  if  she  will 
not  let  me  so  much  as  touch  a  corner  of  it?" 

"  Ah,  Lydia,  if  she  could  hear  you  she 
must  submit!  I  will  tell  her,  at  any  rate, 
just  what  you  say.  But  alas!  I  fear  I  am 
but  an  extra  burden  upon  her." 

"  Nay,  I  do  not  think  so.  You  have  not 
failed  to  make  yourself  useful,  and  she  loves 
you.  But  be  more,  even,  now.  Be  cheerful, 
be  gay,  be  constant  in  kindness  and  affec- 
tion. Help  her  to  live  so  close  to  the  loving 
Christ  that  she  will  forget  her  cares,  or  hide 
them  in  His  breast.  It  is  the  only  way  for 
the  Christian.  Each  morning  should  be  a 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


49 


new  birth  into  God's  good  world,  with  the 
soul  rising  like  a  lark  to  sing  His  praise  and 
learn  His  will.  Thus  trouble  will  catch  the 
sun's  rays  and  become  a  shining  thing,  and 
peace  will  be  where  we  had  thought  was 
care." 

Salome  gazed  at  Lydia  with  astonishment. 
It  was  a  new  thing  for  the  often  sorrowful 
woman  to  speak  like  this,  and  her  face 
seemed  to  shine  with  the  uplifting  thoughts 
within.  The  girl  resolved  to  be  worthy  of 
such  friends  and  to  stand  by  Elizabeth 
through  good  and  evil  report. 

A  burst  of  laughter  from  Nadab,  who  had 
found  the  cat,  and  was  racing  up  and  down 
the  paths  with  the  pretty  yellow  fluff  of  fur, 
floated  in  to  them  on  the  soft  air. 

"  He  has  noticed,  too,"  said  Salome  in  a 
low  voice.  "  He  sees  his  father  at  the  wine 
shop,  and  it  distresses  him." 

"I  thought  so,  poor  child!  I  misdoubt 
hard  times  are  coming.  But  we  will  not 
borrow  trouble — that  is  distrusting  God. 
While  we  keep  close  to  Him  we  are  safe, 
whatever  comes." 

Salome  went  home  with  a  new  sense  of 
her  responsibilities,  and  grew  daily  more 
womanly  with  the  sweet  desire  to  shield  and 
serve  her  friend,  so  that  Elizabeth  often 
thought,  "Dear  girl!  What  would  I  do 
without  her?" 

For  her  heart  was  sore  over  her  husband, 
who  grew  cold  and  cruel  as  the  strong  drink 
gained  more  and  more  complete  mastery 
over  him.  She  listened  to  Lydia's  arguments 
in  regard  to  the  donation,  and  after  a  mo- 
ment's pondering  bowed  her  head. 

"  She  is  right,"  she  said  gently.  "  It  would 
be  only  pride  in  me  to  refuse;"  and  felt  that 
the  loving  gift  sent  by  the  growing  church 
was  partly  her  own,  while  all  were  one,  and 
God  looked  only  at  the  heart. 

Yet  another  month  slipped  by  before  the 
blow  fell.  Several  times  during  these  few 
weeks  Junius  had  lain  all  day  upon  his  mat. 
too  besotted  to  leave  the  house,  and  then 
the  trembling  wife  was  obliged  to  send  word 
by  Nadab  that  he  was  unable  to  attend  to 
his  duties.  At  length,  one  day,  the  boy  came 
home  almost  crying. 

"  I  wish  you  would  not  send  me  with  that 
message  again!"  he  whimpered  to  his 
mother.  "  The  men  in  the  forum  gates  laugh 
and  nudge  each  other,  and  father's  captain 
looks  grave  and  stern.  He  turned  and  mut- 
tered something  to  the  jailer  to-day  that 
sounded  like  'This  cannot  go  on!'  but  I  am 
not  sure.  What  did  he  mean?" 


Elizabeth's  face  blanched,  and  Salome, 
who  was  passing  through  the  court  where 
they  stood,  stopped  at  the  word  and  stepped 
hastily  to  her  side. 

"  Never  mind,  Nadab!"  she  said,  cheerily. 
"  I  will  go  along  next  time  the  father  is  ill, 
and  if  they  laugh  at  us  we  will  laugh  back- 
laughing  hurts  nobody.  Dear  Elizabeth,  let 
us  sing  while  we  weave.  There  is  that  lovely 
air  you  taught  me  the  other  day.  When  I 
sing  that  it  seems  as  if  nothing  mattered 
here.  To  be  '  forever  with  the  Lord  '—just 
think  of  it!  He  who  comforts  everybody, 
who  helps  everybody,  and  who  knows  ex- 
actly how  to  do  it.  Come,  you  start  it,  dear." 

The  other  smiled,  and  the  color  crept  back 
to  her  cheek.  She  began  with  a  faltering 
note  or  two,  then  gained  strength  and  steadi- 
ness, until  presently  the  two  wei%e  singing 
with  well-blended  voices,  their  souls  far 
above  all  earthly  sorrow. 

Junius  awoke  from  his  deep,  bestial  slum- 
ber and  at  first  wondered  what  paradise 
he  had  been  transported  to.  Then  he  recog- 
nized the  voices  and  began  to  feel  his  own 
aching  head,  furred  tongue,  and  general 
wretchedness. 

"  I  wonder  what  is  the  hour?"  he  thought. 
"  Probably  I  shall  be  late  at  my  post  agaiu, 
and  get  another  rating  from  the  captain — 
surly  wretch!  Elizabeth!  Elizabeth!" 

The  singing  ceased  suddenly,  and  a  mo- 
ment later  she  appeared  in  the  doorway,  her 
face  still  shining  with  its  inward  light. 

"  Oh,  you  heard  at  last,  did  you?"  he 
grumbled.  "  I  never  knew  such  people  to 
keep  up  a  noise  as  you  are!  How  can  any- 
body sleep  in  such  a  hubbub?  What  are  you 
doing?" 

"  Weaving,"  answered  his  wife  in  her  low, 
sweet  voice. 

"  And  why  are  you  not  getting  breakfast?'' 
he  snarled. 

She  hesitated,  glanced  at  the  outer  open 
door  an  instant,  then  pointed  to  a  narrow 
sunbeam  that  lay  upon  the  floor.  He  fol- 
lowed her  glance  and  caught  its  meaning. 
The  sun  ray  had  passed  the  noon  mark  by 
many  minutes.  He  raised  himself  hastily, 
then  dropped  back  so  giddy  and  sick  that 
he  could  not  sit  up. 

"  It  is  past  midday?"  he  questioned  falter- 
ingly.  "  Did — did  you  send  word  to  my 
superior?" 

His  wife  nodded  slowly.  "  I  did,  Junius. 
I  tried  to  rouse  you  first,  but—"  She  shook 
her  head  to  show  the  hopelessness  of  the 
attempt,  and  he  muttered  an  oath. 


50 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


"You  ought  to  have  made  me  get  up, 
woman!  They  told  me  if  it  happened  again 
—Well,  get  me  something  to  eat,  will  you? 
Do  not  stand  there  staring  like  an  image  of 
Hecate!  I  must  hasten,  I  tell  you,  before 
the  working  hours  are  quite  over.  Perhaps 
then  all  will  be  right." 

At  his  first  angry  call  Salome  had  run  to 
prepare  food,  and  in  a  trice  Junius  was  off; 
but  he  did  not  come  home  for  the  evening 
meal,  and  the  two  women,  listening  and 
longing,  felt  with  a  sickening  dread  that  all 
was  not  right,  and  might  never  be  again. 

It  was  nearing  midnight  when  he  re- 
turned, so  noisy  and  beside  himself  that 
Elizabeth  hastily  and  imperiously  ordered 
Salome  away  to  her  couch. 

"  No,  no,"  she  vsaid  as  the  girl  tried  to  in- 
sist upon  remaining.  "  This  is  my  trouble. 
You  must  not  bear  it  more  than  is  neces- 
sary. Go  quickly!  I  can  manage  him  best." 

How  she  did  it  the  frightened  girl,  listen- 
ing for  abuse,  perhaps  blows,  never  knew, 
but  in  a  short  time  all  was  quiet  in  the  little 
home,  and  for  one  night  more  they  might 
sleep  in  peace.  But  the  next  morning  when 
Nadab,  accompanied  by  Salome,  went  to 
make  his  excuses  to  his  superior,  they  found 
it  was  unnecessary. 

"  He  is  discharged,"  said  the  captain 
bluntly.  "  We  have  no  need  for  such  as  he." 

Then  his  eyes  met  Salome's,  above  her 
veil,  and  their  sadness  softened  him. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  he  said  more  leniently,  "  but 
the  place  has  been  given  to  another.  Junius 
might  have  retained  it  if  he  had  kept  him- 
self in  order,  but  he  would  not.  Let 
Dionysus  look  after  him  now!"  And  turn- 
ing on  his  buskined  heel,  he  left  them. 

"  Oh,  Salome,  what  shall  we  do?"  said  the 
boy,  half -crying.  "  Winter  is  coming  on  and 
we  have  nothing  ahead,  for  you  know  father 
has  not  helped  at  all  lately.  Mother  and  you 
have  been  doing  everything.  What  will  we 
do?" 

The  girl  sighed.  "  I  must  learn  to  be  still 
more  of  a  help,"  she  said  musingly.  "  But 
what  is  there  beside  the  weaving — hark, 
Nadab!  Who  is  calling  us?" 

They  looked  around  and  saw  the  captain 
hastening  towards  them.  He  was  a  young 
man  of  a  good  disposition,  and  his  pity  had 
been  touched  by  their  evident  distress.  He 
hurried  to  their  side  and  said  hastily: 

"  Fair  maiden,  would  you  like  to  earn  a 
gold-piece?" 

Salome  looked  up,  startled.  "  Why,  yes, 
sir,"  she  said  quickly.  "How?" 


"We  want  one  or  two  more  beautiful 
Bacchantes  for  the  Lensea,  or  Feast  of 
WTine-pressing,"  he  explained,  "  and  you 
would  do  well.  Each  is  furnished  her  gauzy 
costume,  her  flower  wreath,  a  measure  of 
wine,  and  the  gold-piece." 

During  this  speech  Salome  stood  perfectly 
still,  and  the  young  man  could  see,  even  be- 
neath her  veil,  the  color  surging  into  and 
out  of  her  expressive  face,  as  the  thoughts 
surged  to  and  fro  in  her  awakened  soul.' 
Once  she  would  have  considered  this  a  com- 
pliment, if  not  an  honor,  for  only  beautiful 
girls  were  chosen  for  this  service,  and 
though  Hector  might  not  have  allowed  his 
orphaned  sister  to  join  in  the  mad  revel, 
which  all  the  better  class  of  pagans  looked 
upon  with  doubt,  yet  he  would  have  been 
pleased  that  she  was  given  the  chance  to 
refuse.  Now,  however,  the  very  thought  of 
its  lewd  songs  and  dances  sickened  her.  But 
just  as  she  was  about  to  utter  an  emphatic 
"  No!  came  another  suggestion: 

"  Here  is  an  opportunity  to  earn  more 
money  than  I  can  make  in  many  days  at 
the  weaving.  Ought  I  not  to  put  my  per- 
sonal feelings  by  and  do  this  for  Elizabeth?" 

Seeing  the  agitation  and  hesitation  of  the 
maiden,  the  young  pagan  began  gently  urg- 
ing her. 

"  You  need  not  join  the  closing  revels  if 
they  offend  you.  Only  show  yourself  in  the 
procession,  the  libations,  and  first  dance  to 
the  gods;  then  you  can  slip  away  before  the 
wine  has  begun  to  work  and  the  crowd  grow 
mad  with  gayety.  Come,  think  of  it!" 

Salome  did  think  of  it,  and  recoiled  more 
and  more.  She  had  not  yet  fully  learned 
the  horror  of  these  unholy  rites  that  all 
Christians  felt,  but  his  last  words  called  up 
a  scene  which  banished  her  unselfish  wish 
to  help  her  friend.  Even  her  good  motive 
could  not  condone  such  an  act!  Why,  what 
would  she  be  doing  but  countenancing 
Junius  in  his  sin— but  uplifting  his  degrada- 
tion into  a  religious  ceremony?  How  incon- 
sistent! How  hideous! 

She  drew  herself  up  proudly  and  lookod 
straight  into  the  captain's  eyes,  her  own 
flashing  with  indignant  feeling. 

"  Be  a  Bacchante!"  she  cried  scornfully. 
"I,  a  Christian  maiden?  Sir,  you  greatly 
mistake  me  if  you  think  I  could  do  such  a 
thing,  even  to  keep  us  from  starvation.  And, 
furthermore,  it  seems  to  me  singular  enough 
that  an  officer  of  your  rank  and  judgment 
should  discharge  a  man  for  too  fond  worship 
of  Bacchus  in  one  minute,  and  in  the  next 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPL 


51 


try  to  win  a  pure  maiden  to  bis  service. 
Such  inconsistencies  may  belong  to  the  gods 
.you  serve,  but  not  to  the  Holy  One  whom  I 
love." 

She  bowed  low,  gathered  her  veil  closer, 
^nd  turned  proudly  away.  The  captain 
watched  her  graceful  figure  till  it  was  hid- 
den behind  one  of  the  booths  in  the  forum. 
.an  almost  dazed  expression  on  his  face. 
Then  he  slowly  turned,  gathered  himself  to- 
gether, and  strolled  thoughtfully  back  to  the 
hall  of  justice. 

"  A  doctor  of  laws  could  not  have  put  it 
better!"  he  muttered.  "  I  never  should  have 
looked  at  it  in  that  way,  certes— and  what 
glorious  eyes  she  has!  I  have  a  great  mind 
not  to  join  the  procession  myself,  now. 
Something  in  her  look  made  it  suddenly 
peem  horrible  to  me — and  it  does  leave  a  bad 
taste  behind,  'tis  true.  But  to  think  that 
little  girl  should  have  reasoned  it  all  out  so 
quickly!"  And,  laughing  inwardly,  he  re- 
turned to  his  duties,  the  first  Christian  sug- 
gestion of  his  life  having  found  lodgment 
where  it  must  remain,  until  it  could  grow 
into  something— either  a  stunted  plant,  or  a 
spreading,  all-embracing  tree. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  WANDERINGS  OF  AGISTHA. 

WHEN,  a  few  months  before  this, 
Herklas  and  his  three  Jewish  com- 
panions left  the  cave  at  the  first 
glimmer  of  daylight,  they  hastened  on  their 
way  to  Amphipolis,  from  whence,  by 
leisurely  stages,  they  meant  to  pass  on  to 
Thessalonica,  nearly  a  hundred  miles  south- 
west of  Philippi;  a  free  city  governed  by  its 
own  politarchs,  or  magistrates,  without  in- 
terference from  Rome. 

It  was  a  populous  seaport  and  quite  a  Jew- 
ish center,  a  large  share  of  its  population 
Tbeing  of  that  nationality.  The  wise  Paul 
had  quickly  discovered  its  advantages  for 
spreading  the  truth  abroad,  as  upon  its 
streets  could  be  seen  representatives  from 
•every  country,  consequently  the  gospel  told 
in  this  market-place  was  likely  to  be  carried 
to  all  parts  of  the  known  world. 

Our  four  friends  had  news  that  Paul  in- 
tended to  be  there  shortly,  so  they  desired  to 
make  it  their  own  headquarters  during  their 
daily  journeys  among  the  agricultural  peo- 
ple back  from  the  coast.  For,  as  traveling 


traders,  they  visited  the  remotest  farms 
along  their  route,  bringing  to  them  not  only 
needed  goods,  but  spiritual  help  and  glad- 
ness. 

It  was  a  busy  yet  happy  life  in  many 
ways.  Each  morning  they  rose  at  early 
dawn,  and  after  a  cold  lunch  from  their 
scrips,  tramped  for  two  hours  or  so  in  the 
cool  of  the  day,  to  eat  a  hearty  meal  with 
some  family  who  was  glad  to  exchange 
food  for  merchandise.  Then,  during  the 
noonday  heats,  they  sought  shade  and  rest. 
Sometimes  they  slept  in  a  welcome  grove; 
oftener  they  gathered  a  few  farmers  also 
taking  the  noon  rest,  in  vineyard  or 
orchard,  and  conversed  with  them  upon  the 
subject  close  to  their  hearts,  starting  on 
their  way  once  more  as  soon  as  the  fresh 
afternoon  breezes  began  to  blow  in  from  the 
sea;  and  from  thence  till  late  in  the  summer 
evening  they  journeyed,  sold,  and  taught. 

They  had  a  common  purse,  and  Herklas, 
being  a  good  accountant,  soon  became  their 
purser.  Nor  was  it  a  troublesome  position, 
for  money  really  meant  almost  nothing  to 
them.  Their  lives  were  already  "  bought 
with  a  price,"  and  they  cared  only  to  supply 
each  day's  needs,  that  they  might  not  be- 
come public  burdens  in  a  strange  country. 
Thus  casting  all  care  upon  their  Lord,  and 
walking  in  the  constant  glow  of  love,  hopa, 
and  consecration,  the  little  worries  and  hard- 
ships of  a  day  were  swallowed  up  in  a  lofty 
purpose  and  a  holy  joy,  which  gave  their 
homely  lives  dignity  and  peace. 

They  had  supposed  that  the  girl,  Agistha, 
would  upon  waking  return  to  her  people 
within  the  city  walls,  so  dismissed  her  from 
their  minds  when  they  had  supplied  her 
with  a  good  breakfast,  and  stole  softly  out, 
leaving  her  in  a  sound,  refreshing  sleep.  She, 
however,  had  no  such  intention.  Starting 
out  with  only  the  vaguest  idea  of  distances 
or  directions,  she  determined  to  go  to 
Neapolis,  in  hope  of  finding  some  work  to 
do  there,  but  took  the  wrong  road,  and  pres- 
ently found  she  was  in  a  part  of  the  country 
quite  strange  to  her. 

She  was  not  specially  troubled  by  this, 
however,  for  so  long  as  she  kept  to  the 
Roman  highway  she  knew  she  must  in  time 
reach  some  populous  town.  She  had,  indeed, 
taken  the  route  to  Amphipolis,  thirty  miles 
distant,  and  long  before  the  day  ended  was 
glad  to  stop  at  a  small  hamlet  on  the  way, 
and  seek  food  and  counsel. 

It  was  not  an  inviting  spot — a  few  low, 
dirty-looking  huts  of  mud,  with  outlying 


52 


THE  WEESTLEB  OF  PHILIPPL 


fields  and  orchards  poorly  kept.  But  seeing 
a  girl  coming  from  one  of  these,  with  a 
water  jar  upon  her  head,  the  traveler  ven- 
tured to  accost  her.  The  girly  stared  at  hor 
a  moment.  Agistha  was  but  scantly  clothed, 
and  had  no  veil  except  the  linen  grave-cloth, 
which  she  had  managed  to  wind  about  her 
head  and  shoulders  for  a  chlamys,  while  her 
pale,  sad  face,  visible  above  the  eyes,  lacked 
the  deep  sun  tan  of  a  professional  beggar. 

"What  do  you  want?"  asked  the  girl 
finally,  when  she  had  gazed  her  fill. 

"  Food,"  said  Agistha,  "  if  you  will  be  so 
kind.  I  am  starving,  and  I  have  lost  my 
way.  I  started  for  Neapolis,  but—" 

The  girl  laughed.  "  You  are  far  from  the 
road,  then!  This  is  the  direct  route  to  Am- 
phipolis." 

"Oh!"  cried  poor  Agistha.  "But  that  is 
far  away,  is't  not?" 

"About  eighteen  miles  from  here,  yes. 
How  far  have  you  come?" 

"  From  Philippi." 

The  girl's  heavy  face  brightened  with  sud- 
den interest.  Evidently  she  had  heard  of 
Philippi  before;  perhaps  she  knew  some  one 
there. 

"  You  have  had  a  long  walk,  and  must  be 
warm  and  tired." 

"  I  am,"  said  Agistha. 

"  You  look  as  if  you  had  been  sick,  too." 

"  Yes,  I  have." 

"  Well,  sit  down  there  in  the  shade,  and  I 
will  see  what  I  can  do  for  you." 

The  girl  placed  her  tall  jar  on  the  ground 
and  went  into  the  house,  from  which  she 
presently  brought  some  coarse  food  to  the 
weary  traveler,  who  was  so  hungry  and  so 
unused  to  better  fare  that  she  received  it 
eagerly.  While  she  ate  the  girl  lingered,  and 
began  to  talk  again. 

"  If  you  live  at  Philippi  you  must  have 
heard  about  the  two  Christians  whose  chains 
were  loosed  by  the  earthquake  a  few  nights 
ago;  have  you  not?" 

Agistha  looked  up  listlessly,  and  shook  her 
head.  "  No,"  she  said,  "  I  have  been  ill  I 
heard  nothing." 

"  It  is  a  strange  tale,"  continued  the  girl, 
"and  I  wonder  you  did  not  hear  it.  Some 
traders  came  along  this  morning  and  told 
us — one  was  such  a  handsome  young  Greek, 
but  the  others  were  Jews,  and  they  were 
Christians,  too." 

At  this  Agistha  looked  up  quickly.  Could 
they  be  her  helpful  friends  of  last  night? 
The  girl  babbled  on,  detailing,  with  some 
variations,  the  story  of  Paul  and  Silas,  and 


as  the  escaped  slave  girl  began  to  compre- 
hend that  it  was  her  own  story  she  was 
listening  to  in  this  remote  hamlet,  she  forgot 
to  eat  and  sat  with  parted  lips,  taking  it  all 
in.  It  was  the  first  she  had  known  of  the 
imprisonment  of  Paul  and  his  companions. 
She  had  been  hurried  away  after  the  solemn 
adjuration  of  the  former,  and  had  been  so  ill 
subsequently  that  she  knew  nothing  of  the 
tumult  her  masters  stirred  up  later,  nor  the 
suffering  which  came  upon  those  good  men 
in  consequence. 

For  they  must  be  good!  Else  how  had 
their  God  loosed  their  chains  in  so  wonder- 
ful a  manner?  And  these  kind  men  of  the 
cavern  were  their  friends  and  of  the  same 
faith,  also!  How  she  wished  she  had  known 
it  when  with  them!  How  she  would  have 
forced  herself  to  keep  awake  and  glean  from 
their  conversation  some  bits  of  knowledge 
about  all  these  mysteries! 

She  began  asking  the  girl  questions  as  to 
the  direction  they  had  taken,  and  learned 
with  joy  that  it  was  the  same  as  her  own. 

"I  will  follow  them!"  she  said  to  herself, 
with  a  quick  resolve,  the  vague  intentions  of 
the  morning  having  now  crystallized  into  a 
definite  plan  and  undertaking. 

She  said  nothing  to  the  girl,  however.  She 
would  not  have  dared  let  her  know  how 
closely  she  had  been  associated  with  those 
events,  lest  by  this  her  former  masters 
might  be  able  to  track  her. 

She  warmly  thanked  the  girl,  bade  her 
farewell,  and  hastened  onward,  her  goal 
Amphipolis,  and  her  wish  to  know  more  of 
the  followers  of  Christ.  Yet  try  her  best, 
she  could  not  reach  there  that  night,  but 
again  sought  rest  and  shelter  by  the  way. 
The  next  day,  as  it  was  nearing  the  noon 
hour,  she  entered  the  city,  weary,  footsore, 
and  almost  despairing,  wrhere,  dragging  her- 
self to  the  market-place,  she  sank  down  in 
the  shade  of  one  of  the  booths,  wondering 
what  she  wras  to  do  next. 

At  present  she  was  too  exhausted  to  do 
anything  but  rest.  She  huddled  herself  up 
under  her  once  white  mantle,  now  dingy  with 
the  dust  of  the  road,  and  simply  watched  and 
waited.  One  or  two  compassionate  passers- 
by  threw  her  a  mite  or  two,  which  she  treas- 
ured securely  until  food  should  become 
necessary  again.  So  the  long  day  slid  into 
evening,  with  nothing  accomplished.  She 
had  just  risen  to  her  feet,  finally,  faint  with 
her  long  fast,  and  was  about  to  buy  a  small 
oat-cake  with  her  bits  of  money,  when  she 
started  to  see  coming  towards  her  at  a  brisk 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPL 


53 


pace  the  youth  who  had  been  in  her  thoughts 
all  day— Herklas.  He  was  about  to  pass  her 
by  unobserved,  when  the  desperate  feeling 
that  she  might  again  lose  sight  of  her  only 
friend  gave  her  courage  to  address  him. 

"  Sir,"  she  said,  "  I  beg  you  will  pardon 
my  boldness,  but  are  you  not  the  young 
man  who  rescued  a  frightened  girl  from  the 
place  of  tombs  but  lately?" 

Herklas  looked  at  her  with  astonishment. 
She  had  her  face  well  muffled,  but  the  slen- 
der figure  and  weak,  childish  voice  were  the 
same. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered  quickly,  "  the  maiden 
of  Philippi.  But  surely  you  are  not  she! 
How  came  you  here  so  far  away?" 

"  Oh,  sir,  I  have  escaped  from  cruel  perse- 
cutors to  whom  I  could  not  return.  I  am 
hunting  for  work— for  something  to  keep  me 
that  shall  be  honest— and  you  were  all  so 
kind  to  me  before,  I  thought  perhaps — " 

She  stopped,  for  Herklas  began  to  knit  his 
brows  in  perplexity.  Coming  and  going  as 
they  did,  how  could  they  stop  to  find  em- 
ployment for  this  poor  girl?  Even  now  he 
was  hurrying  to  purchase  supplies  for  the 
morrow,  that  they  might  be  off  that  night. 
But  Herklas  had  learned  much  of  Christ's 
spirit  in  these  last  few  weeks,  and  the  words 
which  had  been  so  often  repeated  to  him, 
"  Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  one  of 
the  least  of  these,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me," 
had  a  literal  meaning  for  him.  To  have 
passed  this  poor  girl  by  unassisted  would 
have  been  to  neglect  his  Lord. 

"If  only  you  were  in  Thessalonica  now!" 
he  said  with  a  smile.  "  We  have  friends 
there,  and  are  ourselves  going  soon,  but—" 

"  Oh,  I  will  go  there!"  said  Agistha 
quickly.  "  It  is  a  large,  busy  city,  is  it  not? 
I  could  surely  find  something  to  do." 

"  But  it  is  nearly  seventy  miles  away, 
and— wait!  let  me  think.  I  have  it.  I  be- 
lieve we  can  arrange  for  you.  Wait  here  a 
few  minutes  till  I  go  to  see  about  it." 

Herklas  had  walked  many  miles  that  day 
in  the  hot  sun,  burdened  by  his  pack  of 
goods,  and  still  had  much  to  do  before  the 
morning,  but  this  was  "  for  Christ,"  and 
those  magic  words  dispelled  fatigue.  As 
the  good  soldier,  weary  with  a  hard  march, 
is  aroused  to  fresh  zeal  by  his  captain's  call 
"  To  arms!"  so  Christ's  follower  held  his 
personal  feelings  in  abeyance  whenever 
there  was  a  special  call  for  his  service.  Not 
only  his  soul,  but  his  body  also,  was  the 
Lord's;  if  it  must  be  taxed  unduly,  that  was 
His  matter  and  He  would  make  it  right. 


Herklas  hurried  to  the  lodging-place  of  the 
four  and  sought  out  Thallus,  who,  as  the 
oldest  and  most  sedate,  was  the  acknowl- 
edged leader  of  the  group.  To  him  he 
rapidly  described  his  late  interview,  and  the 
idea  which  had  occurred  to  him  for  the  girl's 
assistance,  and  Thallus,  after  some  rellec- 
tion,  answered: 

"  I  think  it  will  do.  Go  and  speak  to  the 
steward  of  the  noble  lady,  while  I  return  to 
the  maiden  and  see  if  she  be  fed  sufficiently. 
It  is  more  fitting  that  a  man  of  my  age  con- 
duct her  to  the  lady's  presence." 

Herklas  acquiesced  and  hastened  away  to 
a  large  caravansary  some  squares  distant, 
where,  crossing  the  court,  which  was  well 
filled  with  a  motley  collection  of  men  and 
beasts  making  ready  for  their  start  in  the 
cool  of  the  day,  he  sought  out  the  host  and 
asked  for  a  certain  man. 

Upon  being  conducted  to  his  presence, 
Herklas  bowed  low  before  the  somewhat 
gorgeously-attired  individual,  and  said: 

"  Sir,  your  proclamation  for  a  female  ser- 
vant, to  take  the  place  of  one  fallen  ill  in 
your  lady's  train,  was  called  early  this 
morning  in  the  market-place.  Did  you  find 
one  to  your  liking?" 

"  No,  but  we  ceased  the  proclamation  be- 
cause the  slave,  Lucilla,  seemed  better,  and 
we  hoped  would  be  ready  to  attend  her  mis- 
tress by  night." 

"  Then  you  no  longer  wish  a  maid?" 

"  Yes,  because  she  is  suddenly  worse 
again,  and  must  be  left  behind  w"hile  my 
lady  presses  onward.  She  wishes  to  reach 
Thessalonica  by  the  day  after  to-morrow." 

"  Then,  sir,  I  have  in  mind  a  young  maiden 
who  would  be  glad  to  go  with  her.  She  is 
docile  in  speech  and  manners,  but  not  over- 
strong,  yet—" 

"  Her  duties  will  be  light.  Where  is  the 
girl?" 

"  My  friend,  Thallus,  will  soon  bring  her, 
I  think.  She  has  been  sadly  neglected  and 
is  so  poor  her  clothing  is  in  rags." 

"  Oh,  well,  my  mistress  can  supply  cloth- 
ing. What  is  her  native  tongue?" 

"  Greek." 

"  Very  good!  And  you  say  she  is  of  gentle 
manners?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

While  they  were  talking  together,  Thallus 
was  announced,  and  behind  him,  well 
wrapped  in  her  chlamys,  appeared  the  slave 
girl,  shrinking  timidly  in  his  shadow.  The 
steward  questioned  her  a  few  minutes, 
learning  that  she  was  from  further  east, 


54 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPL 


arrl  had  been  abandoned  when  very  ill  and 
left  to  die;  that  she  wished  to  leave  the  old 
life  behind  and  earn  a  respectable  living; 
that  she  was  willing  and— as  he  saw  for  him- 
self—modest and  soft  of  speech.  Presently, 
then,  he  led  her  to  the  apartments  of  his 
lady,  who  was  of  exalted  rank,  and  whose 
name  was  ^Enone. 

She  was  hastening  home  to  Thessalonica 
after  a  visit  among  friends  at  a  mountain 
resort,  and  was  hurrying  in  order  to  see  her 
husband  before  his  departure  for  Rome  upon 
official  business.  She  traveled  with  a  long 
train  of  guards  and  slaves,  as  did  all  of  high 
rank,  but  her  special  maid,  upon  whom  she 
depended  for  personal  attentions,  had  fallen 
seriously  ill. 

The  steward,  Cleophas  by  name,  formally 
presented  Agistha  as  an  applicant  for  the 
situation,  then  at  a  sign  from  his  mistress 
withdrew,  leaving  the  two  together. 

^Enone  was  a  young  matron  of  fine  pres- 
ence and  keen,  bright  eyes.  She  was  loung- 
ing upon  a  couch  playing  with  a  beautiful 
boy  of  perhaps  three  summers,  but  as  the 
man  retired  she  sat  up  and  beckoned  Agistha 
forward. 

"  Come  nearer,"  she  said  in  a  pleasant,  de- 
cided sort  of  voice;  "  let  me  see  your  face." 

The  girl  obeyed,  dropping  her  apology  of  a 
veil,  and  stood  meekly  before  the  grand 
dame. 

"  You  do  not  look  very  strong,  yourself," 
said  the  latter  presently. 

"  I  am  only  weary,  madam.  I  have  walked 
so  far.  You  will  find  me  industrious,  and 
stronger  than  I  look." 

"  Well,  perhaps  so.  Your  face  is  honest, 
at  least,  and  I  have  no  time  to  be  particular, 
as  we  must  start  inside  of  a  half-hour.  Take 
her,  Chloe,"  turning  to  a  dark-skinned  slave 
woman  who  was  plying  a  great  fan  above 
her  mistress'  head,  "  and  give  her  clothing 
befitting  my  attendant.  But  remember, 
there  is  no  time  to  lose." 

The  slave  bowed  low,  and  passed  the  fan 
to  a  small  page  not  over  eight  years  old, 
who  had  been  crouched  on  the  rug  by  the 
couch,  and  now  scrambled  to  his  feet.  He 
was  fair-haired  and  sturdy  of  build,  and, 
Agistha  learned  later,  a  little  Briton,  re- 
cently bought  from  the  new  importation  of 
captives  sent  from  that  unhappy  country, 
whose  king,  Caractacus,  was  now  languish- 
ing in  chains  at  Rome.  He  had  been  sent  to 
^Snone  as  a  choice  gift  by  a  friend  in  that 
city. 

After  a  brief  delay  the  women  returned. 


Agistha  so  greatly  improved  in  appearance 
that  her  new  mistress  broke  into  a  pleased 
laugh. 

"  Why,  you  are  truly  fair!"  she  cried, 
frankly.  "  I  am  glad,  for  I  like  bright  an-1 
charming  things  about  me." 

As  she  ceased  speaking  Cleophas  appeared 
to  say  that  all  was  in  readiness  for  his  mis- 
tress to  depart.  At  this  Chloe  made  Agistha 
a  sign  and  placed  in  her  hand  a  long  veil 
and  mantle,  the  former  of  finest  Indian 
lawn,  the  latter  of  silk  from  Persia,  woven 
with  gold  thread  till  it  glittered  with  every 
movement. 

"  Go  wrap  the  mistress  carefully  in  these, 
then  follow  her  to  her  litter  and  see  that  she- 
has  everything  she  needs.  I  follow  with  the 
little  master,  Ian,  for  I  am  his  nurse." 

Agistha,  trembling  a  little,  obeyed,  but 
as  she  began  her  unusual  task  it  seemed  as. 
if  some  former  knowledge  came  to  her.  She 
could  remember  some  other  lady  standing 
thus  to  be  wrapped  in  silken  garments,  and 
herself  in  some  far-gone  time  looking  on 
with  a  feeling  of  impatience  at  the  delay. 
Only  once  or  twice  did  JEnone  correct  her, 
and  then  by  no  means  harshly,  though  with 
a  decision  which  enforced  obedience. 

"  There,  that  will  do,"  she  said  presently, 
pulling  the  veil  a  trifle  looser  about  the 
mouth  and  nostrils.  "  Follow  me  with  the 
baby.  Chloe.  Where  is  Harold?" 

She  beckoned  to  the  Briton  boy,  who  as 
yet  understood  but  few  words  of  Greek, 
though  he  was  learning  rapidly,  and  the  lit- 
tle train  proceeded  to  the  court-yard. 

Here  several  laden  camels  and  asses  were 
slowly  filing  out  to  the  road,  and  others 
stood  waiting.  Forming  a  line  on  either  side 
of  the  doc.  >vay  were  eight  mounted  guards 
in  handsome  liveries  of  blue  with  steel  trap- 
pings, who  remained  like  so  many  statues 
while  the  somewhat  fussy  Cleophas  assisted 
his  lady  and  her  women  to  their  places. 

First  JEnone  entered  a  litter  of  dainty 
shape  and  lightness,  mostly  built  of  bam- 
boo, the  cushions  and  curtains  displaying 
her  special  colors,  blue  and  steel.  In  another 
lectica  scarcely  less  handsome  Chloe  and 
her  little  charge  was  seated,  while  Agistha 
and  the  page,  Harold,  were  placed  upon  the 
houdah,  or  covered  saddle,  of  a  kneeling 
camel  just  beyond. 

Agistha  watched  the  four  Nubian  bearers, 
white-turban ed  and  naked  to  the  waist,  lift 
the  poles  of  their  lady's  lectica  to  their 
cushioned  shoulders  and  step  to  position; 
the  others,  bearing  the  little  Ian  and  nurse, 


THE   WRESTLEE  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


55 


followed;  then  her  camel  rose  swaggering! y 
from  his  bended  knees  with  a  long-drawn 
yawn,  and  like  clock-work  the  eight  guards 
formed  a  hollow  square  about  the  precious 
family,  one  in  front,  one  in  the  rear,  and 
three  on  each  side. 

With  a  last  look,  to  be  sure  all  were  com- 
fortable. Cleophas  mounted  and  rode  up  and 
down,  getting  the  whole  train  in  motion,  for 
this  was  but  its  head,  and  the  rest  of  the 
long,  serpent-like  body  was  waiting  to  fall 
into  line  outsi  'e.  As  they  trailed  out 
through  the  city  gates  in  the  twilight 
Agistha  had  just  a  glimpse  of  four  men, 
foot-pa sseiigers  with  packs  on  their  backs, 
walking  in  the  same  direction,  and  was 
pleased  to  see  that  they  joined  the  pedes- 
trians in  the  rear,  having  evidently  put 
themselves  under  the  protection  of  this 
caravan  for  the  short  night  journey  to  the 
next  caravansary. 

But  the  following  morning  when  she 
looked  for  them  they  were  nowhere  to  be 
seen.  They  had  doubtless  risen  at  day- 
break and  gone  their  way.  Would  she  meet 
them  at  Thessalonica? 


CHAPTER  XV. 
THE  POLITARCH'S  FAMILY. 

7r~~*  NONE  wras  the  Greek  wrife  of  one  of 
ZJ""1  the  politarchs  who  ruled  the  city  of 
•*T— '  Thessalonica,  Gaius  by  name,  and 
was  a  woman  of  marked  individuality  and 
exceptional  talents.  She  was  musical,  play- 
ing both  the  lyre  and  the  viol,  to  which  she 
sang  enchantingly,  and  she  was  learned  in 
the  history  and  philosophy  of  her  nation. 
She  had  studied  thoughtfully  the  compli- 
cated and  poetic  mythology  of  both  Greece 
and  Rome,  and,  having  considerable  reason- 
ing powers,  she  always  felt  they  lacked  the 
elements  necessary  to  control  her  heart  and 
life.  She  could  not  readily  yield  up  her  con- 
science to  beings  who  were  constantly 
liable  to  errors,  and  who  were  capable  of 
the  follies  and  petty  foibles  of  humanity. 
She  felt  that  the  god  she  worshiped  must 
have  some  greatness  other  than  power,  and 
must  above  all  things  be  perfectly  pure  and 
true.  She  even  went  so  far  as  to  say  that 
this  being  must  be  so  above  every  human 
passion  as  to  express  a  love  that  was  uni- 
versal and  impartial,  yet  intense  and  per- 
sonal as  well,  and  a  justice  so  absolute  it 
could  not  err,  either  on  the  side  of  mercy  or 


severity.  Gods  who  could  love  and  hate, 
stoop  to  retaliation  and  bickerings,  spy  upon 
each  other  and  show  childish  envy  and 
malice,  excited  only  her  ridicule,  though  they 
might  be  the  accepted  deities  of  her  country. 

She  could  talk  well  on  these  subjects,  and 
liked  nothing  better  than  to  entertain  her 
husband's  friends  at  dinner,  and  enter  iut:> 
their  deep  discussions  afterwards.  She  was 
looked  upon  as  a  skeptic,  in  consequence, 
and  was  in  great  disfavor  with  the  pagan 
priests,  who  knew  her  influence  was  all 
against  them.  One  or  two  Jewish  rabbis 
who  had  been  admitted  to  her  home,  claimed 
that  she  was  greatly  attracted  towards  their 
religion;  though  this  she  did  not  quite  con- 
firm. She  explained  that  while  its  funda- 
mental ideas  were  based  on  great  truths, 
speaking  to  the  inmost  soul  of  man,  yet 
these  had  become  so  overloaded  with  trivial 
forms  and  ceremonies  as  to  have  all 
spirituality  smothered  out  of  them  by  ex- 
actions as  belittling  as  the  superstitions  of 
her  own  Greek  religion.  So,  like  most  edu- 
cated pagans  of  the  day,  she  held  herself 
aloof  from  all  creeds,  and  gave  only  an  out- 
ward respect  to  the  rites  of  her  priests. 

Her  suite  made  the  journey  to  Thessa- 
lonica rapidly,  reaching  there  the  next  morn- 
ing but  one,  and  Agistha  watched  with  great 
interest  their  progress  through  the  busy 
streets  of  the  populous  city  overlooking  the 
blue  sea. 

It  being  situated  upon  a  jutting  tongue 
of  high,  rocky  foundation,  the  streets  rose, 
terrace-fashion,  directly  from  the  shore,  and 
the  rolling  land  back  of  the  city  swept  away 
into  hills  and  peaks,  whose  green  sides  were 
divided  into  large  and  beautiful  gardens, 
while  the  white  houses  of  the  lower  city 
nestled  amid  the  deep  green  foliage  of  palm 
and  date  trees,  relieved  occasionally  by  the 
cold  gray-green  of  the  olive. 

To  one  of  these  suburban  gardens  our 
party  took  their  way,  but  long  before  reach- 
ing it  were  met  by  another  little  company 
of  half  a  dozen  mounted  men,  whose  rich 
costumes,  half  civic,  half  military,  bespoke 
their  rank.  The  foremost  was  Gaius  him- 
self, a  tall,  slender  man  of  proud  carriage, 
who  rode  like  a  centaur.  He  now  dashed 
forwards,  his  face  alight  with  joy,  to  greet 
wife  and  child,  and  was  soon  riding  by  the 
side  of  the  first  litter,  his  boy  lifted  to  the 
saddle  in  front  of  him,  while  JEnone  leaned 
eagerly  out  to  watch  the  two  with  love- 
lighted  eyes. 

The  other  men,  friends  and  relatives,  hav- 


56 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


Ing  greeted  her  also,  considerately  held  back 
their  horses  a  little,  leaving  the  two  to  their 
rapid  interchange  of  question  and  comment. 

"  You  are  late;  I  expected  you  last  night," 
said  Gaius. 

"  Yes,  and  we  should  have  been  here  but 
for  Lucilla,  who  was  taken  ill  on  the  road 
and  delayed  us  some  hours  at  Amphipolis. 
I  found  another  maid,  however,  so  I  left  her 
to  be  cared  for  by  two  of  the  pack  slaves, 
who  will  bring  her  on  as  soon  as  she  is  able 
to  travel.  But  tell  me,  dear,  why  must  you 
go  to  Rome?" 

"  Oh,  it  Is  on  account  of  these  Jewish 
troubles,  I  believe." 

"Jewish?  I  thought  they  had  been  very 
quiet  ever  since  their  outbreak  under  Cali- 
gula." 

"  So  they  have,  but  they  are  a  seditious, 
uneasy  set,  and  Caligula's  persecutions  only 
quelled,  not  subdued  them.  We  always  have 
to  keep  a  close  eye  upon  them,  and  there  are 
rumors  afloat  that  seem  to  need  looking 
into." 

"  I  see.  But  so  many  of  them  are  good 
friends  of  ours!  I  do  hope  you  will  not  be 
called  upon  to  work  them  any  mischief." 

"'Mischief!  Really,  my  lady,  that  is  an 
odd  way  to  speak  of  your  Emperor's  rule." 

She  laughed  with  him.  "  Well,  you  know 
well  enough  what  I  mean.  I  have,  somehow, 
a  natural  antipathy  to  the  stirring  up  of 
such  things.  What  is  claimed  against  them 
now?  That  same  matter  of  a  new  king?" 

"  Probably.  I  really  do  not  know.  And 
as  likely  as  not  this  is  only  another  of 
Claudius'  annual  scares — one  never  knows. 
If  he  had  half  the  bravery  of  his  wife,  he 
would  be  quite  a  man." 

"  Have  a  care,  Gaius!  We  are  in  the  open 
street.  .  You  would  not  wish  him  to  possess 
her  wickedness,  too?" 

"  No,  but  sometimes  weakness  is  worse 
than  wickedness— in  a  ruler.  How  Ian  has 
grown— bless  his  little  heart!  And  you  are 
looking  charming,  my  wife.  The  mountain 
air  agrees  with  you." 

"  I  am  glad  you  think  so,  Gaius.  With 
your  presence,  our  little  trip  would  have 
been  perfect.  It  seems  too  bad  we  should 
have  to  be  separated  again  so  soon.  When 
do  you  start?" 

"  To-morrow." 

"  So  soon?" 

"Yes,  it  must  be.  So  you  have  had  to  be 
your  own  maid?" 

"  Oh,  no;  I  found  another  at  Amphipolis, 
and  she  has  proved  a  real  treasure.  She  was 


brought  me  by  some  traders— such  a  pale, 
frightened  little  creature,  and  in  rags— but 
she  is  really  growing  fair  to  see,  with  good 
food  and  treatment.  You  must— oh,  Gaius! 
is  that  safe?  How  your  horse  plunges!  Do 
give  me  the  baby!" 

"  Entirely  safe,"  laughed  her  husband. 
"  Why,  this  is  Selim,  my  new  Arabian,  price- 
less for  fidelity,  though  full  of  his  play  at 
times.  Is  he  not  a  beauty?" 

"  In  truth  he  is!  His  coat  is  like  satin. 
Ah,  there  is  the  dear  old  home!  How  beau- 
tiful it  is!  I  never  so  realized  it  before. 
Do  tell  my  bearers  to  stop  at  the  gate,  t 
want  to  walk  up  the  terraces  and  see  how 
the  roses  are  doing— though  it  is  late  for 
them,  I  know." 

"  Yes,  they  are  past  their  prime,  but  very 
fine  yet.  I  will  walk  with  you.  Yes,  yes, 
my  boy;  you  shall  ride  still,  if  you  like,  and 
father  will  lead  the  pony  for  his  little  man. 
Now  hold  tight,  my  son." 

Agistha,  watching  the  trio,  felt  her  heart 
contract  with  a  sudden  spasm  of  pain.  It 
was  not  envy — she  rejoiced  in  their  joy — but 
more  as  if  she  had  witnessed  something  of 
which  she  ought  to  be  a  part.  It  appeared 
for  an  instant  to  transport  her  into  another 
existence,  where  she  beheld  like  scenes  of 
refined  love  and  happiness,  amid  pleasant 
surroundings.  There  ought  to  be  a  fourth, 
though — a  little  girl,  who  seemed  mingled 
with  her  own  identity,  clinging  to  the  lady's 
gown,  and  with  breathless  interest  watch- 
ing the  boy  on  the  big  horse. 

These  strange,  dream-like  suggestions 
came  to  her  only  at  such  moments,  when 
all  about  her  were  grace,  beauty,  and  affec- 
tion, and  she  felt  sadly  that  they  could  not 
be  memories,  unless  of  some  former  life  in 
a  sphere  brighter  and  better  than  she  had 
ever  known  here. 

When  the  company  had  entered  the  wide 
villa-like  mansion,  surrounded  by  broad,  pil- 
lared galleries,  Agistha  hastened  forward  to 
wait  upon  her  mistress,  a  task  she  was 
learning  through  affection  to  perform  deftly 
and  well.  For  ^Enone  won  the  hearts  of 
those  who  served  her.  She  was  even  in 
temper,  decided  in  her  commands,  and  jr.st 
in  judgment.  She  did  not  expect  impossibili- 
ties, but  quietly  insisted  upon  conscientious 
service,  and  while  her  slaves  were  never 
publicly,  and  seldom  privately  punished,  her 
friends  said  they  were  more  faithful  than 
most  slaves.  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  mere 
threat  of  being  sold  brought  the  most  un- 
ruly of  them  to  terms,  and  their  only  idea 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPI. 


57 


of  a  promotion  was  to  be  given  a  service 
nearer  the  mistress.  Agistha  felt  that  she 
had  been  fortunate  in  securing  such  a  place, 
and  was  most  grateful  to  the  Christian  men 
for  it.  She  kept  a  sharp  lookout  for  them 
every  time  her  duties  called  her  upon  the 
street,  and  longed  inexpressibly  for  a  chance 
to  thank  them  in  person. 

She  saw  nothing  of  them,  however,  and 
had  almost  given  up  expecting  to  do  so, 
having  settled  down  to  her  pleasant  life 
amid  these  new  surroundings  with  little  de- 
sire for  change.  Several  weeks  had  passed 
when  one  Sabbath  her  mistress  came  in 
from  a  drive  in  the  new  chariot  with  the 
baby  and  his  nurse,  and  said: 

"  Agistha,  I  wish  you  to  accompany  me 
out  after  the  noon  meal.  Have  on  your 
street  attire." 

Agistha  watched  the  sun-dial  eagerly  that 
afternoon,  pleased  at  the  prospect,  and  when 
it  marked  the  ninth  hour  she  and  JEnone, 
closely  veiled  and  plainly  wrapped,  started 
off  on  foot,  an  unusual  proceeding  for  the 
somewhat  luxuriously-inclined  lady.  They 
walked  rapidly,  Agistha  keeping  respectfully 
an  arm's  length  behind,  and  after  crossing 
several  streets,  made  their  way  into  a  large 
structure  built  of  marble  from  one  of  the 
quarries  not  far  distant,  and  rich  in  gilding. 

The  pagan  girl  thought  it  could  not  be  a 
temple,  however,  for  it  lacked  the  many 
statues  and  images  she  was  used  to  seeing, 
so  was  puzzled  when  they  had  entered,  to 
find  herself  in  the  latticed  gallery  of  a  place 
where  people  had  evidently  congregated  for 
worship. 

It  was,  in  fact,  a  magnificent  Jewish  syna- 
gogue, very  unlike  the  small  structure  at 
Philippi.  ^Enone  made  her  way  to  a  seat 
with  the  deftness  of  one  familiar  to  the 
place,  and  they  were  soon  comfortably  set- 
tled close  behind  the  gilded  lattice-work, 
almost  overlooking  the  raised  seats  of  the 
rabbis  just  below  the  dais  and  desk  of  the 
Presbyter. 

Agistha  looked  curiously  at  the  symbols 
about  the  altar,  none  of  which  had  any  sig- 
nificance to  her;  admired  a  long,  richly-em- 
broidered curtain  just  behind  a  white-draped 
table,  and  wondered  over  a  tiny  door  in  the 
wall  behind  the  desk.  But  as  she  glanced 
towards  the  rabbis'  seats  she  caught  her 
breath  in  astonishment.  There,  conspicuous 
among  the  bearded  elders,  were  the  two  good 
men  of  Philippi! 

Even  while  she  gazed  one  rose — the  very 
one  who  had  commanded  the  evil  spirit  to 


come  out  of  her— and  stepped  to  the  desk. 
An  attendant  brought  him  one  of  the  Scrip- 
ture rolls  from  the  niche  in  the  wall  (thus 
relieving  Agistha's  curiosity  about  the  little 
door),  and,  unrolling  it,  he  began  to  read. 

His  voice  was  full,  sonorous,  and  majestic. 
Agistha  felt  rather  than  saw  her  mistress 
press  closer  to  the  grating,  and  she  too  bent 
forward  eagerly.  He  read  but  a  short  time 
from  the  psalms  and  prophecies,  then  began 
to  talk  in  a  conversational  and  winning  tone, 
setting  before  his  hearers  in  a  confident 
manner  the  true  understanding  of  the  Mes- 
siah—"  that  He  must  suffer  and  die,  and  rise 
again  from  the  dead,"  and  after  presenting 
this  to  his  listeners  most  convincingly,  he 
declared  in  a  fearless  tone: 

"  And  Jesus  whom  I  preach  unto  you  is 
this  Messiah!" 

A  murmur  ran  through  the  assembly  as 
he  wound  up  the  roll  and  returned  to  his 
seat.  At  once  another  rabbi  sprang  to  his 
feet,  asking  questions  and  raising  doubts, 
while  from  that  time  till  the  closing  benedic- 
tion the  first  speaker  was  kept  busy  answer- 
ing, denying,  persuading  and  correcting,  all 
with  a  calmness  and  decision  that  made 
every  word  forcible. 

Through  the  whole  Agistha  listened  almost 
as  intently  as  her  better-informed  mistress, 
for  though  a  great  deal  of  it  was  beyond  her 
comprehension,  she  could  and  did.  under- 
stand that  this  Jesus,  the  Messiah,  was  He 
whom  her  friends  of  the  cave  worshiped 
and  loved.  Knowing  this,  and  believing 
fully  that  Paul  was  "  a  servant  of  the  Most 
High,"  she  accepted  Jesus  with  the  faith  of 
a  little  child.  Once  she  turned  to  look  at 
^Enone,  and  saw  that  her  gray  eyes  above 
the  veil  were  intent  and  almost  tearful. 

At  length  the  service  was  over,  and  as 
the  two  women  lingeriujrly  turned  to  go, 
Agistha  felt  sure  she  had  just  a  glimpse  of 
the  youth  Herklas,  and  another  man — a 
small,  bright-eyed  person— pressing  forward 
as  if  to  speak  to  Paul  and  his  companion; 
but  the  next  instant  they  were  lost  in  the 
crowd  and  she  was  obliged  to  hurry  after 
her  mistress,  lest  they  be  separated,  for  the 
synagogue  was  large,  and  to-day  filled  to  its 
utmost  capacity. 

After  they  had  reached  home  and  Agistha 
had  ordered  some  refreshment  for  her  mis- 
tress, they  wandered  out  to  one  of  the  wide 
galleries  opening  upon  the  inner  garden,  and 
the  maid  began  playing  with  the  little  Ian, 
while  his  mother  watched  them  thoughtfully. 
At  length  she  said,  suddenly: 


58 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPI. 


"Agistha,  where  were  you  brought  up? 
You  really  seem  to  have  no  religion.  You 
pray  neither  to  the  gods  nor  the  fates,  you 
wear  no  amulets,  you  never  consult  the 
oracles,  nor  study  the  stars.  What  are  you, 
I  would  like  to  ask?" 

Agistha  blushed  and  looked  almost  fright- 
ened. This  seemed,  even  to  her  unawakened 
mind,  a  grave  charge. 

"  I  fear  I  am  nothing,  my  lady,"  she  said 
very  humbly. 

^Enone  burst  out  laughing.  "  You  need  not 
look  so  frightened!  Do  you  feel  too  humble 
to  address  yourself  to  any  god?  That  is  the 
way  you  act  It  is  not  a  common  attitude,  I 
assure  you.  No  matter  how  low  a  man  may 
fall,  he  always  seems  to  think  he  has  a 
special  claim  upon  his  gods!" 

Agistha  during  this  speech  had  been  try- 
ing to  collect  herself.  She  was  fond  of  her 
mistress,  but  somewhat  afraid  of  her,  too. 
At  length  she  answered  timidly: 

"  I  mean  I  was  never  taught,  madam.  No 
one  told  me  anything  except  how  to  chant 
the  oracles,  so — " 

"The  oracles?  You  chant  the  oracles! 
What  do  you  mean,  child?" 

"  I  was  possessed  of  the  spirit  of  Python, 
my  lady — so  my  masters  said — and  they 
made  me  do  it.  Sometimes  I  could  not— then 
they  beat  and  starved  me;  then  my  mind 
would  get  all  confused  and  I  would  say 
whatever  Flavius  willed,  and  then  they 
treated  me  better;  but  I  was  wretched  all 
the  time,  and  in  my  clear  moments  I  knew 
it  was  a  lie." 

"You  poor  child!  And  did  you  run  away 
from  them?" 

"  Oh,  no;  they  took  me  to  the  tombs, 
and—" 

"What:' 

"  And  left  me  there  for  dead.  But  for 
some  reason  they  did  not  bury  me." 

"  Horrible!    Horrible!" 

"  When  I  woke  from  the  long  sleep  I  lay 
on  the  bier  and  I  was  frightened,  for  it  had 
been  raining,  and  now  everything  glistened 
under  the  moon,  and  all  was  so  still  and 
strange  I  thought  I  must  be  in  some  other 
world.  Then  some  one  told  me  not  to  be 
frightened,  and  came  to  my  aid.  It  was  the 
young  man  who  helped  me  get  my  situation 
with  you.  madam—" 

"  Indeed!" 

"  And  he  took  me  to  a  cave  where  were 
three  other  good  men  who  were  very  kind 
to  me.  They  gave  me  food,  and  spread  their 
abbas  down  for  me  to  rest  upon  before  the 


fire,  then  talked  low  and  gently  till  I  fell 
asleep;  and  when  I  woke  next  day  they  had 
gone,  leaving  me  a  nice  meal  to  break  my 
fast.  I  was  following  them  here  when  I  saw 
Herklas,  as  they  called  him,  in  the  market- 
place, and  begged  his  help.  Then  he  and  the 
stern  elderly  man  brought  me  to  you.  I 
have  found  since  that  they  are  Christians, 
my  lady,  and  if  you  please  I  would  like  to 
be  a  Christian  too." 

"  How  strange  this  all  seems!"  said  ^Enone 
musingly,  with  only  a  passing  smile  at  the 
girl's  simplicity.  "  What  then  did  you  think 
of  the  Christian  Apostle  who  spoke  to- 
day?" 

"  Oh!  madam,  that  is  strangest  of  all." 
And  Agistha,  warmed  to  a  communicative- 
ness unexampled  in  her  previous  experience, 
then  told  the  tale  of  her  first  meeting  with 
these  Apostles  in  Philippi,  throwing  herself 
upon  the  protection  of  her  mistress  to  keep 
her  from  those  bad  men,  her  former  masters. 

^Euone  listened  with  many  a  sharp  ques- 
tion and  exclamation.  The  narrative  in- 
tensely interested  her.  At  once  her  specu- 
lative mind  began  to  question  and  assert. 
Why  had  it  been  so  clearly  revealed  to  this 
childish  person  that  the  men  were  divinely 
appointed?  She  remembered  something  she 
had  once  heard  in  regard  to  the  prophecies 
of  Jesus,  the  crucified  Nazarene,  and  tried  to 
recall  it  now.  What  was  it?  That  certain 
things  should  be  hid  from  the  wise  and 
made  clear  to  babes?  Something  like  that, 
surely.  Strange  how  constantly  His  utter- 
ances returned  to  her,  when  once  she  had 
heard  them!  He  had  certainly  not  suc- 
ceeded in  establishing  a  Jewish  kingdom, 
but  what  if  this  Paul  was  right,  and  the  only 
kingdom  his  Master  wished  to  bring  upon 
earth  was  that  governing  men's  hearts  and 
lives? 

She  looked  up  and  broke  into  a  gay  laugh, 
as  if  shaking  off  some  mental  disquiet. 

"How  foolish  you  are,  Agistha!"  she 
cried.  "  You  certainly  must  be  better  taught! 
One  can  not  put  on  religion  like  a  garment. 
And  so  it  was  a  Christian  youth  who  helped 
you  in  your  extremity?  Was  he  a  Jew?" 

"  I  think  not,  my  lady.  He  spoke  and 
looked  like  a  Greek,  though  the  others  were 
Jews.  He  was  like  the  statue  of  Apollo,  tall 
and  shapely,  but  writh  a  more  beautiful 
face,  madam,  for  his  whole  look  meant  kind- 
ness and  good-will." 

"  Well,  well,  bring  me  the  baby  now,  and 
call  Harold  to  take  away  this  salver.  Come, 
my  boy— come  to  mother.  I  declare, 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


59 


Agistha,  you  are  nearly  as  much  of  a  baby 
as  lie." 

The  girl  stood  meekly  before  her,  the  color 
coming  and  going  in  her  cheeks. 

"There!  Mind  me  not!"  cried  her  mistress 
relentingly.  "  But  you  shall  have  teachers. 
To-morrow  bring  your  sewing  and  sit  with 
me  while  Hipparchus  reads  to  me.  He  is  a 
learned  eunuch  who  can  teach  you  what 
religions  there  are,  and  then  you  may  make 
a  choice." 

"  I  have  made  it,  my  lady." 

"  So  be  it!  Perhaps  you  have  done  a  wise 
thing,  too — how  can  I  tell?  Only,  those 
who  embrace  this  belief  seem  so  common." 
She  had  evidently  forgotten  the  girl  and  was 
thinking  aloud.  "  Even  their  Messiah  Him- 
self was  low-born  and  died  a  criminal's 
death.  Yet  what  sublime  ideas  He  had! 
Supreme  love  expressed  in  supreme  sacri- 
fice— what  could  be  more  godlike,  more 
unmanlike!  Its  force  and  beauty  haunt  me, 
and  I  never  feel  it  so  strongly  as  when  my 
heart  is  filled  with  love  for  my  dear  ones. 
Perhaps—" 

She  looked  up  suddenly,  catching  herself 
in  her  monologue,  and  colored  as  she  saw 
Agistha  gazing  at  her,  vaguely  trying  to 
follow  her  thoughts. 

"  Do  not  stare  so,  child!"  she  cried  crossly, 
then  smiled  and  gave  the  flushing  cheek  a 
friendly  pat;  and  before  Agistha  had  quite 
comprehended  either  mood,  the  mistress  was 
engaged  in  a  merry  frolic  with  her  baby, 
waking  all  the  echoes  of  the  garden  with 
their  laughter. 

But  the  slave  girl,  slow  of  thought,  crept 
away  behind  a  rose  tree  and  tried  to  recall 
all  she  had  heard  in  the  synagogue,  like 
another  humble  woman,  whose  name  even 
was  as  yet  unknown  to  her,  "  pondering 
these  things  in  her  heart." 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

TO  THE  HELP  OF  THE  CHRISTIANS. 

EVERY  day  when  there  was  service  at 
the  synagogue  the  two  women  might 
have  been  seen  in  the  gallery,  listening 
eagerly    to    the    words    of    the    Apostles— 
Agistha  with  a  simple  faith  that  asked  no 
questions,  dared  no  doubts;  2Enone  with  con- 
stant internal  argument  and  resistance,  yet 
with  the  persistent  feeling  that  here  might 
be  the  solution  of  all  her  difficulties:  if  only 
it  were  not  such  a  wound  to  one's  pride  to 


acknowledge  one's  self  pledged  to  a  religion 
unpopular  and  ill-considered  enough  to  have 
to  keep  itself  in  the  background,  that  it 
might  escape  constant  persecution!  Yet  she 
continued  to  go  and  listen,  and  sought  oppor- 
tunities, afterwards,  to  talk  with  her  hand- 
maiden about  what  they  had  heard,  wonder- 
ing meanwhile  at  the  latter's  simplicity  and 
faith,  yet  half  envying  her,  too. 

While  Paul  and  his  fellow-workers  were 
still  in  the  city,  Amasa  and  Herklas  one  day 
called  at  the  politarch's  house,  with  some 
exquisite  linens  from  Egypt,  and  also  some 
of  exceeding  fineness,  enwoven  with  purple 
threads  giving  almost  the  effect  of  em- 
broidery, brought  from  Tyre  and  Sidon. 

Amasa  was  intent  only  upon  the  sale  of  his 
wares,  but  the  youth,  knowing  this  was  the 
home  of  the  Lady  ^Enone,  was  secretly 
hoping  he  might  see  once  more  the  poor 
maiden  whom  he  had  twice  rescued  from 
suffering  and  privation— perhaps  from  death. 
The  traders,  being  known  to  the  slave  peo- 
ple as  honest,  courteous  men,  were  readily 
admitted  by  the  porter,  who  only  smiled  at 
them  from  the  doorway  of  his  little  room  be- 
side the  vestibule,  and  kept  his  hand  upon 
the  good  dog,  Fides,  who  assisted  him  in  his 
duty  of  guarding  the  door. 

At  the  request  of  ^rEuone.  who  allowed 
herself  many  privileges  not  common  among 
the  Greek  women— she  having  learned  to 
follow  Roman  fashions  somewhat — they 
were  ushered  into  her  apartments,  where 
she  sat  with  her  maidens  in  what  was  called 
the  "  winter  room."  This  delightful  apart- 
ment, now  made  habitable  by  the  cool  morn- 
ings and  evenings  of  late  autumn,  faced  the 
south,  so  that  through  the  gilded  latticework 
of  one  whole  length  of  wall  the  brilliant  sun- 
shine poured  in,  lying  in  broad  checkered 
patterns  upon  the  floor,  only  partially 
shaded  by  the  inside  vines  that  climbed 
around  and  over  the  diamond-shaped  panes 
of  mica,  setting  each  in  a  frame  of  living 
green.  Thick  rugs,  divans,  cushions,  and  deep 
couch-like  chairs,  were  scattered  about,  and 
at  the  end  furthest  from  the  sun  stood  a 
wide,  oval-shaped  charcoal  brazier,  its  outer 
shell  of  steel  carved  into  lace-like  designs. 
This  was  supported  upon  griffins  of  bronze 
and  gilt,  whose  tongues,  in  some  way  colored 
red,  lolled  out  of  their  open  mouths  like 
those  of  dogs  panting  with  the  heat— a  de- 
vice which  always  suggested  warmth 
whether  there  was  any  fire  in  the  receptacle, 
or  not. 

Agistha,    down    on    a   rug   in   a    nest    of 


60 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPL 


cushions,  frolicking  with  the  baby,  whose 
prime  favorite  she  had  become,  looked  up  as 
the  door  curtain  swung  aside,  and  fairly 
turned  white  when  she  saw  that  the  traders 
were  Amasa  and  Herklas. 

The  young  Greek's  eyes  sought  hers  at 
once  and  she  knew  she  was  not  forgotten, 
while  he  felt,  with  something  akin  to 


"And  you  are  Christians!"  she  exclaimed. 
"  But  you,"  turning  in  her  quick  way  to 
Herklas,  "  you  are  a  Greek,  are  you  not?" 

"  I  am,  my  lady." 

"  I  am  not  surprised  that  the  Jews,  who 
have  always  looked  for  a  Messiah,  should 
be  taken  with  the  tales  of  this  Jesus,  whose 
life  seems  so  full  of  good  and  whose  death 


Agistha  bounded  to  her  feet  with  the  cry,  "Oh,  dear  mistress,  they  are  my  friends  of  the  cave!" 


triumphant  joy,  that  her  emotion  was  for 
him  alone. 

^Enone  received  the  two  men  graciously, 
but  when  Agistha  bounded  to  her  feet  with 
the  cry,  "  Oh,  dear  mistress,  they  are  my 
friends  of  the  cave!"  she  became  interested 
at  once,  and  soon  the  four  were  busily  talk- 
Ing,  all.  forgetting  for  the  moment  that 
there  was  any  difference  in  rank  between 
them.  ^Enone  eagerly  asked  questions,  and 
the  others  respectfully  answered  them,  satis- 
fying her  curiosity  in  regard  to  their  present 
life  and  purposes,  and  thus  naturally  ap- 
proaching the  subject  of  their  religion. 


was  so  sublime,  but  it  strikes  me  it  is  a 
long  step  for  a  worshiper  of  Apollo  to  take." 

She  was  smiling  at  him,  and  the  youth, 
flushing  under  her  half-satirical  gaze,  an- 
swered modestly: 

"  It  did  not  seem  far  to  me,  lady.  I  had 
been  long  discontented  and  doubtful.  I  fe)t 
that  our  gods  were  in  many  respects  no  bet- 
ter than  I,  and  it  seemed  to  me  they  must  be 
far  too  busy  with  their  loves,  hates,  and 
quarrels,  to  care  for  any  one  in  humble  life. 
So  when  I  was  told  of  the  God  who  loves 
even  the  humblest,  I  was  in  a  hurry  to  re- 
ceive Him  and  give  my  love  in  return." 


THE   WBESTLEE  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


61 


"  It  seems,  indeed,  a  religion  for  the  lowly 
and  the  burdened,"  said  the  lady.  "  And  in 
these  troublous  times  who  knows  when  one 
may  not  be  in  sore  straits  himself,  however 
fortunate  now?  But  come,  open  your  packs 
and  let  us  see  what  the  looms  of  Egypt  and 
Phoenicia  have  to  offer  us." 

The  display  proved  tempting,  and  ^nono 
bought,  though  not  largely,  saying  as  she 
put  aside  one  or  two  rolls  of  the  finest 
linens: 

"  I  will  not  take  much  to-day,  but  when- 
ever you  are  in  the  city  call  again,  as  I  may 
want  more  presently.  My  husband  is  now 
absent  in  Rome,  and  he  likes  to  select  the 
cloth  for  his  own  tunics." 

The  two  men  had  been  several  times  to 
the  pleasant  villa  with  their  wares,  when 
one  day,  as  it  was  nearing  sunset,  and 
Agistha  was  attending  her  mistress  in  a 
stroll  to  and  fro  through  the  long,  many-pil- 
lared peristyle  which  formed  one  of  the  en- 
closed courts  of  the  great  house,  Herklas 
was  announced,  and  presently  stood  making 
his  salaam  before  them.  He  had  no  goods 
with  him,  and  looked  both  hurried  and 
agitated. 

"  Madam,"  he  began  quickly,  scarce  wait- 
ing for  the  lady's  kindly  greeting,  "  I  have 
come  to  beg  your  help,  if  possible.  But  first, 
has  your  noble  husband,  Gaius,  the  politarch, 
returned?" 

"  No,  and  will  not  for  a  day  or  two.  What 
would  you  with  him?" 

"  Oh,  madam,  have  you  heard  nothing  of 
the  tumult  in  the  lower  city?" 

"  Tumult?    No!    About  what?" 

"  Concerning  our  friends,  the  Apostles, 
lady.  I  do  not  know  what  will  come  of  it 
all,  but  the  streets  near  their  lodgings  are 
filled  with  a  crowd,  shouting  and  threaten- 
ing. It  seems  that  some  of  the  Jewish 
rabbis,  angry  and  envious  because  they  can- 
not answer  Paul,  and  because  notwithstand- 
ing them  he  keeps  making  converts  among 
our  best  citizens,  have  stirred  up  the  popu- 
lace against  the  Apostles,  and  are  urging  it 
on  to  bloody  deeds." 

"  Where  do  they  lodge?"  asked  ^Bnone 
quickly,  becoming  at  once  the  stern,  self- 
controlled  woman  of  authority,  while 
Agistha  sank  back  trembling  with  fright. 

"  With  his  kinsman,  Jason  the  Jew, 
madam." 

"I  know  him— a  fine,  honorable  man!  But 
surely  he  will  not  give  those  good  men  up  to 
the  rabble?" 


"  No,  lady,  they  are  well  hidden  and  safe, 
thus  far,  but  now  we  are  trembling  for 
Jason,  who  may  suffer  from  the  fury  of  the 
mob.  He  is  one  who  would  let  himself  be 
torn  in  pieces  before  he  would  betray  a 
friend— and  oh,  if  you  could  see  the  wolfish 
crowd!  They  are  the  lowest  of  the  low,  and 
ripe  for  any  mischief." 

"  This  must  be  looked  after  at  once!"  cried 
yEnone  with  decision.  "  You  did  well  to 
come  to  me.  Order  my  lectica,  Harold;  and 
Agistha,  come  with  me." 

"  But,  my  lady,"  began  Herklas  re- 
monstratingly,  "  the  streets  all  around  there 
are  blocked  with  the  mob,  and—" 

"Would  they  dare  stop  the  wife  of  a 
politarch?  You  know  his  power  is  supreme 
here,  Herklas.  Even  Rome  does  not  inter- 
fere with  it,  unless  to  advise  and  caution. 
But  call  out  my  body-guard— the  people  will 
recognize  and  respect  their  livery,  and— wait! 
You  shall  have  a  horse  and  be  our  leader. 
Can  you  ride?" 

"  I  can,  madam." 

"  Very  good.  We  will  go  at  once  to  the 
house  of  Jason." 

The  little  cavalcade  was  soon  under  way, 
the  two  women  in  the  litter,  guarded  by  ten 
soldiers  and  led  by  Herklas,  also  mounted 
and  hastily  armed.  But  when  they  reached 
Jason's  home,  nearer  the  shore,  only  an  ex- 
cited group  of  neighbors  and  friends  stood 
about,  who  hastened  to  inform  the  noble 
lady  that  Jason  had  been  dragged  to  the 
justice  hall  before  the  politarchs,  for  trial. 

"  We  will  go  there  at  once,"  said  ^Enone, 
and  her  stalwart  litter-bearers  broke  into 
the  swinging  trot  habitual  to  them,  keeping 
well  up  with  the  horsemen. 

As  they  turned  into  the  forum  gates  they 
could  see  what  a  mob  had  arisen,  for  the 
whole  space  around  the  steps  of  the  judg- 
ment hall  was  filled  with  their  excited, 
clamoring  faces,  swinging  arms,  and  bob- 
bing turbans.  At  ^Enone's  word  the  guards, 
with  Herklas  as  forerunner,  began  clearing 
a  passage  through  the  surging  and  compact 
mass;  but  though  they  spurred  ruthlessly 
amid  the  people  without  a  care  where  the 
horses'  hoofs  struck,  yet  their  progress 
seemed  terribly  slow  to  the  anxious  women 
inside,  consisting,  as  it  did,  of  a  series  of 
jerky  advances  and  long  stops. 

While  they  were  in  the  thick  of  the  crowd, 
Agistha  gave  a  low  cry  and  sank  back,  half 
fainting,  against  her  mistress. 

"  Silly  child,  to  be  so  frightened  at  this 
mob!"  whispered  yEnone  through  set  teeth. 


62 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPL 


But  she  too  started  and  looked  anxiously 
around  when  Agistha  murmured  in  return: 

"  Oh,  it's  my  master— Flavius— the  cruel 
one.  See!  He  is  urging  those  men  at  the 
left  to  cry  '  Down  with  the  Christians!' 
That  man  in  a  frayed  yellow  tunic,  with  the 
dark,  scarred  face.  What,  oh!  what  if  he 
should  look  this  way?" 

"And  suppose  he  does,  girl?  Would  he 
ever  think  of  finding  his  wretched  slave  in  a 
litter  bearing  the  colors  of  Gaius,  the 
politarch?  Be  quiet,  I  say,  and  stop  whim- 
pering! He  will  never  see  you  behind  your 
veil,  and  if  he  did,  you  are  so  changed  he 
could  not  recognize  you.  Ah,  here  we  are 
at  last!  Herklas,  come  hither." 

The  youth  rode  close. 

"  No,  stay!  You  will  not  do.  It  must  be 
one  of  my  own  men  whose  livery  is  known 
to  him.  Here,  Andrea!" 

One  of  the  guards  spurred  forwards. 

"  Dismount  and  go  into  yonder  hall,  and 
get  speech  with  Hipparchus.  Tell  him  I 
wish  to  see  him  at  once." 

After  an  interval  of  impatient  waiting, 
during  which  Agistha  leaned  back,  muffled 
to  the  eyes,  and  shiveringly  watched  the 
active  Flavius  as  he  kept  the  crowd  keyed 
up  to  its  work,  ^Enone  watching  also  with 
keen  intentness  though  in  haughty  quiet, 
Andrea  appeared  with  the  old  lawyer,  Hip- 
parchus, a  learned  eunuch  belonging  to  the 
family  of  ^Dnone. 

Scarcely  waiting  to  greet  him,  she  broke 
out:  "  What  is  this,  Hipparchus?  I  hear 
the  worthy  Jason  is  under  condemnation. 
Is  that  true?" 

"  Yes,  he  is  being  examined  now,  my 
lady." 

"And  for  what,  pray?" 

"  For  harboring  some  seditious  men  who 
are  stirring  up  the  people  about  a  new  king, 
and—" 

"Bah!  The  same  stupid  old  story  that  is 
made  the  cause  of  every  unjust  persecution 
of  these  Jews.  Have  you  heard  these 
Apostles  speak,  yourself?  If  you  had,  you 
would  see  the  absurdity  of  such  a  charge, 
for  they  preach  only  peace,  love,  good-will, 
and  self-sacrifice— never  the  seditions  of  pub- 
lic or  private  conspiracy.  And  Jason,  too! 
You  know  his  honesty,  and  what  a  good 
friend  of  ours  he  has  been.  Oh,  if  only 
Gaius  were  here!  Is  there  no  sense  among 
the  other  politarchs,  that  they  let  them- 
selves be  ruled  by  a  mob?" 

"  But  you  see,  my  lady,  our  loyalty  has 
been  questioned — especially  that  of  our  Jew- 


ish neighbors  in  the  city.  It  was  for  that, 
as  you  know,  that  Gaius  was  called  to  Rome 
for  counsel,  and  it  will  not  do  to  let  it  be 
said  that  we  harbor  among  us  even  the 
thought  of  a  new  king." 

"No  more!  I  am  ashamed  of  you!  Oh, 
were  I  a  man!  or  were  my  husband,  who  is 
worth  any  two  other  men  in  Thessalonica, 
but  here  to  speak  for  the  right!  Yet  stay! 
Can  they  imprison  Jason  if  security  be 
offered  for  his  person?" 

"  Not  on  this  charge,  lady." 

"  And  the  Apostles  have  not  been  found?" 

"  Not  yet." 

"Ah,  ha!  This  simplifies  things!"  She 
laughed  gayly.  "  Go  offer  security  at  once, 
Hipparchus.  You  understand  that  I  will  be 
responsible.  Have  our  good  Jason  dis- 
charged, and  we  will  argue  the  right  of  this 
thing  later.  Will  you  do  this  for  me?" 

He  looked  refusal  for  a  minute;  the  lady 
ZDnone  was  really  too  bold  for  a  woman, 
though  as  fine  a  creature  as  ever  lived!  She 
was  as  dear  to  him  as  an  own  child,  indeed, 
and  when  he  looked  up  bravely  to  say  "  no," 
he  met  a  winning  smile  that  drew  forth  a 
reluctant  "  yes." 

As  Hipparchus  slowly  remounted  the 
stately  steps  of  the  hall,  JEnone  gave  the 
word  Home!"  and  looked  after  him  with  a 
merry  glance.  She  was  as  gay  over  her 
victory  as  she  had  been  angry  at  the  cause 
for  it.  Her  moods  were  subtle  and  change- 
able as  the  stirrings  of  the  wind,  but  per- 
vading them  all  was  the  fine  perfume  of  a 
generous,  large-hearted  nature.  She  now  be- 
gan to  banter  Agistha  upon  her  pale  cheeks 
and  frightened  eyes,  dimly  visible  through 
her  veil. 

"  Come,  no  longer  fear!"  she  said  with 
sunny  imperiousness.  "  Let  Flavius  claim 
you  if  he  dare!  I  only  wish  he  would.  I 
watched  him  narrowly,  Agistha,  and  I  have 
made  a  discovery.  Let  me  whisper  it— he 
has  been  a  galley  slave!" 

"Oh,  my  lady!    How  can  you  tell?" 

"  I  saw  the  brand  upon  his  cheek.  It  has 
been  cleverly  concealed  by  a  sabre  stroke, 
leaving  a  cross  scar  above  it,  but  it  is  there; 
I  cannot  be  deceived.  And  furthermore,  it 
is  the  brand  given  for  a  life  sentence.  The 
man  is  an  escaped  criminal — of  that  I  am 
certain.  How  you  look  at  me,  child!  Do 
you  wonder  how  I  know  all  this?" 

"  Ah,  my  lady  knows  everything;  but  this 
does  seem  a  strange  thing  for  you  to  under- 
stand." 

"  Yet  the  explanation  is  simple  enough.    I 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPI. 


63 


Lave  a  sailor  cousin  who  is  in  charge  of  one 
of  the  government  galleys,  and  he  has  told 
me  much.  I  used  to  go  on  board  frequently 
when  we  were  in  Rome,  and  I  learned  each 
brand  by  heart.  It  was  through  curiosity, 
only— I  always  will  be  learning,  and  often, 
too,  concerning  matters  that  seem  of  little 
use  to  a  woman  of  rank.  But,  Agistha,  I 
have  noticed  already  that  curiosity  is  the 
key  to  wisdom,  and  wisdom,  of  whatever 
variety,  is  never  wasted.  It  is  like  my  coffer 
of  odds-and-ends  at  home.  Give  a  hasty 
glance  beneath  the  lid  and  one  would  say 
the  contents  are  useless.  But  wait!  One 
<Jay  I  need  a  silken  tassel  for  my  girdle,  and 
I  find  it  there;  another  day  my  sandal  laces 
break— never  mind;  more  are  forthcoming. 
Or  perhaps  Chloe  needs  a  bit  of  stuff  to 
mend  her  tunic,  or  one  of  my  crisping-pins  is 
missing— a  few  minutes'  search  helps  us 
both  to  what  we  need.  So  every  bit  of 
knowledge  proves  useful,  no  matter  if  it  be 
but  the  brand  upon  the  cheek  of  a  galley 
slave — and  here  am  I  turning  the  coffer  of 
my  wits  wrong  side  out  for  you!" 

She  ended  with  a  laugh  in  which  Agistha 
feebly  joined,  her  fears  vanishing  in  the 
warm  atmosphere  of  protection  and  sup- 
port which  every  one  must  feel  when  suc- 
cored by  this  great-hearted,  clear-headed 
Lady  ^Enone. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
THE  BRIDE  OF  HERKLAS. 

HERKLAS  did  not  accompany  the 
women  home.  A  whisper  from  Mnoae 
had  sent  him  off,  still  mounted,  upon 
some  other  business  over  which  Agistha 
dared  ask  no  questions.  But  after  the  de- 
layed evening  meal  had  been  served  and  the 
mistress  had  spent  an  hour  or  more  playing 
softly  on  her  lyre,  and  occasionally  breaking 
into  sweet,  low  singing,  there  was  a  stir 
in  the  peristyle  outside  the  women's  apart- 
ments, and  presently  the  page  appeared  to 
say  that  Herklas  requested  a  short  audience 
with  the  Lady  JEnone,  if  she  were  pleased 
to  see  him  that  night. 

She  sprang  up  at  once,  flung  her  lyre  upon 
the  divan  and  started  out;  but  catching  a 
glimpse  of  her  handmaiden's  wistful  face, 
she  hesitated  an  instant,  then  said  gra- 
ciously, "  You  may  attend  me,  Agistha,"  at 
•which  the  latter  rose  to  her  feet  and  quickly 
followed. 


They  found  Herklas  somevrhat  dusty  and 
disordered,  as  if  from  a  long  ride,  and  as  he 
salaamed  low  lie  said  apologetically: 

"  I  waited  for  nothing,  madam,  but  came 
to  report  to  you,  as  you  bade  me." 

"Yes,  that  is  right.  And  what  is  the  re- 
port V"  she  asked  eagerly. 

"  The  Apostles  are  safe  on  the  road  to 
Berea,  lady.  We  went  with  them  until  sure 
they  were  not  pursued,  and  then  left  them 
to  other  friends  as  trusty." 

"That  is  well!    And  Jason?" 

"The  politarchs  discharged  him  after 
security  had  been  given,  and  he  is  in  his  own 
house,  somewhat  bruised  and  shaken,  but 
not  seriously  injured." 

"  And— the  other." 

She  shot  a  glance  from  under  her  lids  at 
Agistha,  but  Herklas  did  not  allow  his 
gaze  to  wander. 

"  I  have  done  your  bidding,  madam,  and 
he  is  now  in  the  inner  prison,  arrested  on 
the  charge  of  theft,  and—" 

"Theft?" 

"  Yes,  lady.  He  was  caught  robbing  a 
booth  by  the  officers  I  sent  to  arrest  him. 
After  he  is  tried  on  that  score,  however, 
your  testimony  can  be  given  against  him." 

"You  have  done  well,  Herklas!  You  have 
my  sincere  thanks,  and  more.  But  of  that 
later." 

She  clapped  her  hands  sharply,  and  Harold 
appeared  from  behind  a  curtain. 

"  Conduct  this  guest  of  mine  to  the  small 
triclinium,"  she  said  briskly,  "  and  tell  my 
women  of  the  culina  to  serve  him  with  the 
best  meal  possible  on  such  short  notice.  And 
you,  Agistha,"  turning  with  a  careless  air 
to  the  girl,  "  may  see  that  he  is  properly 
served." 

She  dismissed  them  with  a  wave  of  her 
hand,  and  returned  to  her  private  apart- 
ments, where,  with  a  smile  curling  her  lips, 
she  once  more  resumed  her  lyre  and  her 
singing. 

"  One  can  see  they  are  made  for  each 
other!"  she  murmured;  then  after  freshly 
tuning  the  stringed  instrument,  she  began  a 
sighing  little  love  song. 

Herklas,  scarcely  believing  in  his  good  for- 
tune, followed  Harold,  while  Agistha.  trem- 
bling, blushing,  yet  not  reluctant,  followed 
him.  Neither  spoke  at  first.  He  took  his 
easy  attitude  upon  one  of  the  couches  with 
a  half-deprecating  air,  and  she  stood  by, 
ready  to  minister  to  his  slightest  want,  as 
was  the  attitude  of  most  women  to  their 
lords  in  that  day.  Presently,  however,  the 


64 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPL 


rich  viands  loosened  the  young  man's 
tongue,  and  Agistha  softly  answered  his  re- 
marks, her  mood  responding  to  his  as  clear 
crystal  tingles  to  the  touch  of  a  golden  bar. 

He  told  her  of  his  new  life,  with  its  be- 
liefs, hopes,  and  work,  to  which  she  added 
the  glad  news  that  she,  too,  had  taken  the 
Christ  into  her  heart.  Finally,  after  much 
talk  about  themselves,  which  was  not,  there- 
fore, selfish,  since  it  also  reached  out  to  the 
help  of  others,  he  said: 

"  Agistha,  to-night  I  have  been  told  some- 
thing which  may  change  all  my  future 
plans.  If  events  shape  themselves,  under 
God,  as  I  believe  they  will.  I  shall  remain 
permanently  in  Thessalonica,  and  it  will  be 
fitting  that  I  should  have  a  wife  and  a 
home." 

Agistha  dropped  her  eyes  and  trembled. 

"  I  think  your  mistress  favors  me,"  he  was 
continuing,  but  at  the  word  "  mistress  "  she 
broke  into  a  cry  of  despair. 

"Oh,  yes,  yes!  But  I  had  forgotten!  It  is 
my  master  I  have  to  fear— my  real  master. 
Flavius!  How  dare  I  think  of  any  future, 
when  he  is  likely  to  claim  me  at  a  moment's 
notice?" 

"  Flavius?"  cried  Herklas,  staring  at  her. 
"  The  suspected— but  no,  I  must  not  betray 
the  Lady  ^Enone's  matters.  But  is  he  your 
master?" 

"  I  know  what  you  would  say,  Herklas — 
the  suspected  galley-slave.  Alas!  yes,  that 
wicked  man  is  the  master  I  escaped  from." 

"  Say  rather  who  left  you  as  dead  without 
burial— the  brute!  He  will  never  claim  you, 
Agistha,  never.  Not  only  because  he  thinks 
you  dead,  but  because — no,  I  have  no  right 
to  tell  you.  Only,  ask  the  kind  Lady  ..Enone, 
and  perhaps  she  will  explain  what  I  cannot. 
But  one  question  more  before  I  go." 

He  asked  it  so  softly  that  even  Harold 
could  not  hear,  and  her  answer  must  have 
pleased  him,  for  he  left  the  house  with  a 
firm,  quick  tread,  and  a  proud  smile  on  his 
face. 

As  for  Agistha,  she  soon  appeared  before 
her  mistress  so  subdued  in  manner  that 
the  lady  broke  into  merry  laughter. 

"  What  ails  the  girl?"  she  cried  banter- 
Ingly.  "  One  would  think  she  had  been 
caught  stealing  sweetmeats!" 

At  which  Agistha  called  up  courage 
enough  to  ask:  "My  lady,  is  it  true  I  need 
no  longer  fear  my  old  master? — and  why?" 

"  Ah,  the  young  trader  told  you  that,  did 
he?  And  of  course  explained  everything." 

"  No,   madam.    He   said   they   were   your 


affairs  and  he  had  no  right  to  do  so,  but 
bade  me  ask  you,  who  are  so  kind." 

"  What  is  it  to  him,  Agistha,  whether  you 
are  free  or  not?  Ah,  ha!  your  blushes  an- 
swer. WTell,  well!  it  is  all  right,  I  am  sure. 
He  is  true  and  good  and  beautiful.  I  will 
give  you  your  wedding,  my  girl,  and  it  shall 
be  one  suitable  for  the  favorite  of  a 
politarch's  wife." 

"  But  Flavius?  You  forget  that  I  am  a 
slave  yet,  lady." 

"I  forget  nothing,  child!  Your  master,  as 
you  call  that  wretch,  is  now  in  prison,  and 
will  soon  be  returned  to  his  proper  service 
under  government." 

The  girl  smiled  broadly.  It  was  the  first 
time  she  had  really  felt  secure.  Then  her 
face  clouded  over. 

"Ah!"  she  sighed,  "the  blessed  Christ, 
whose  follower  I  would  be,  forgave  even  his 
enemies,  who  were  still  more  cruel  than 
Flavius.  I  ought  to  do  the  same." 

JEnone  looked  at  her  with  astonishment. 
"Forgive  him?"  she  cried.  "He  who  beat 
and  starved  you,  and,  not  content  to  ruin 
your  present  life,  left  you  unburied,  that 
even  your  soul  should  never  have  rest?  For- 
giveness for  such  a  creature  is  an  impossi- 
bility!" 

But  at  that  moment  came  to  the  speaker's 
mind  the  accounts  not  only  of  Christ  and  of 
Stephen,  but  of  later  martyrs  also,  who  had 
sublimely  forgiven  under  the  tortures  of  a 
cruel  death,  and  she  grew  thoughtful. 

"  Yes,  even  that  does  seem  to  be  demanded 
of  us,"  she  murmured  at  last.  "  If  Christ 
came  to  save  sinners,  surely  this  Flavius  is 
one;  and  if  the  Christian's  God  can  forgive 
such,  should  not  the  Christian  as  well?" 

The  lady  shook  her  head  as  if  it  were  a 
problem  beyond  her,  then  looked  up  with  her 
merry  glance. 

"  Yes,  forgive  him,  Agistha,  that  is  right. 
But  let  us  be  thankful  that  even  your  par- 
don cannot  free  him  now!" 

A  few  days  later,  Gaius  having  returned 
meanwhile,  the  once  galley  slave  was  called 
up  for  examination  and  fully  identified  as  a 
murderer  who  had  escaped  years  before  dur- 
ing a  frightful  storm  in  the  Tyrrhenean  Sea, 
when  the  galley  had  capsized.  He  was  sup- 
posed to  have  been  drowned  at  that  time, 
but  by  superhuman  efforts  managed  to  reach 
the  shore.  He  was  now  "  put  to  the  ques- 
tion," and  forced  by  torture  to  confess  that 
he  had  not  acquired  Agistha  by  purchase  or 
inheritance,  but  had  stolen  her  from  a  palace 
in  Rome,  soon  after  his  escape  from  the 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


65 


shipwreck,  intending  to  negotiate  with  her 
wealthy  parents  for  a  ransom,  but  being 
afterwards  in  danger  of  recognition,  had 
carried  her  with  him  to  Nicopolis  in  Greece, 
still  meaning  in  time  to  demand  a  ransom 
which  would  set  him  up  independently  for 
life.  Meanwhile  he  left  her,  still  a  small 
child,  in  the  care  of  a  woman  there.  Later 
he  took  her  with  him  to  Macedonia,  think- 
ing that  now  he  would  sell  her  as  a  slave, 
for  he  believed  it  too  late  to  try  and  restore 
her  to  her  parents.  But  not  readily  getting 
his  price  for  the  puny,  haggard,  half-starved 
little  creature,  he  kept  possession  of  her, 
though  leaving  her  for  weeks  at  a  time  to 
pick  up  a  living,  as  best  she  could,  among 
his  associates  in  poverty  and  crime. 

At  length  the  child  fell  seriously  ill,  and 
though  she  received  only  the  precarious 
nursing  of  charity,  was  finally  able  to  be 
about  again,  but  with  a  disordered  brain. 
Her  singular  powers  of  divination  then  first 
showed  themselves,  and  gained  her  new  in- 
terest, for  the  unscrupulous  Flavius  at  once 
saw  money  in  this  acquisition.  He  had  be- 
fore this  been  connected  with  Alois,  the 
Phoanician,  in  more  than  one  questionable 
proceeding,  and  now  the  two  resolved  to  go 
into  partnership  in  exhibiting  the  girl,  hop- 
ing to  make  a  fortune  out  of  her  ambiguous 
utterances. 

All  this  was  literally  forced  from  Flavius 
bit  by  bit,  but  nothing  could  make  him  re- 
veal the  name  of  Agistha's  parents.  Through 
severe  suffering  he  persisted  that  he  did  not 
know,  and  when  his  tormentors  turned  the 
screws  tighter  he  shrieked  out  names  at 
random,  evidently  on'y  to  shorten  the  agony. 
Thus  they  became  convinced  that  he  really 
did  not  know,  but  his  description  of  the 
house  proved  that  it  must  be  one  of  the 
palaces,  for  its  vast  peristyle  was  sur- 
rounded by  marble  columns  and  costly 
statuary,  while  a  large  fountain,  beautifully 
shaded  by  flowering  plants,  played  in  its 
center.  Other  courts,  smaller  but  as  luxuri- 
ous, he  spoke  of  seeing  in  vista,  and  all 
showed  enormous  wealth  in  their  plenishing. 

He  had  gained  entrance  to  this  peristyle 
through  the  narrow  fauces  or  passages  lead- 
ing from  the  garden  to  the  peristyle,  past 
the  kitchens.  The  gate  in  the  wall  surround- 
ing this  garden  had  been  inadvertently  left 
ajar,  and  he  had  slunk  in,  hoping  to  steal 
something  within  the  luxurious  enclosure — a 
gay  wrap  carelessly  flung  across  a  seat  per- 
haps, or  a  piece  of  silverware  left  from  some 
banquet.  But  he  found  nothing  portable, 


so,  seeing  no  one,  he  kept  on  until  he  reached 
the  peristyle,  where  only  a  wee  child  was 
playing  about  the  fountain.  Obeying  his 
first  evil  instinct  of  thievery,  he  quickly 
threw  his  girdle  over  her  head  to  stifle  her 
cries,  and  ran  off  with  her  wrapped  close  in 
his  tunic,  escaping  without  rousing  a  pf>r- 
sou,  as  it  was  the  hour  of  the  siesta,  and  all 
Home  lay  asleep  for  the  time  being. 

From  this  story  he  would  not  deviate,  and 
was  finally  released  from  further  torture, 
though  only,  subsequently,  to  be  returned 
to  the  cruel  galleys  and  his  hopeless  life  of 
hard  labor  and  degrading  servitude. 

While  Gaius  each  night  repeated  to  his  in- 
terested wife  these  glimpses  of  crime  wrung 
from  the  wretched  man  by  rack  and  screw, 
she  grew  more  and  more  engrossed  in  her 
little  handmaiden,  and  a  doubt  began  to 
assail  her. 

"  Surely,  Gaius,  this  points  to  the  noblest 
parentage,  and  thus  disarranges  all  my 
plans,"  she  said  once.  "  I  had  meant  to 
marry  her  to  young  Herklas,  but  he  is  only 
a  trader,  and — " 

"Ah!  my  wife,  the  trades  are  growing 
more  honorable  every  day.  Men  must  make 
money  to  keep  up  with  the  ruinously  ex- 
travagant fashions.  But  how  can  you  be 
certain  that  she  is  of  noble  birth?  She 
might  have  been  the  child  of  some  favorite 
slave,  for  aught  we  know." 

"  But  you  say  Flavius  confessed  that  she 
was  beautifully  clothed,  so — " 

"  The  most  extravagantly  dressed  baby  I 
saw  in  Rome  was  the  Gallic  slave  boy,  but 
four  years  old,  of  our  brave  young  general, 
Otho.  He  looked  like  a  little  prince,  and 
had  his  special  nurse,  as  our  own  Ian." 

"  I  know.  It  is  the  silly  fashion  of  the 
times.  But  how  can  we  know  aught  con- 
cerning Agistha?  His  description  of  the 
mansion  would  apply  to  so  many." 

"Truly.  It  throws  little  light  upon  the 
subject;  and  besides,  the  occupants  are  apt 
to  change  with  the  caprice  of  the  emperor. 
The  best  way  would  be  to  make  a  list  of  all 
the  patricians  of  twelve  years  ago  and  find 
if  any  sustained  such  a  loss— but  that  would 
be  a  herculean  task.  You  say  she  knows 
nothing  of  all  this?" 

"  Not  a  word." 

"  Then  what  good  can  it  do  to  tell  her?  It 
may  make  her  discontented,  and  spoil  a 
sweet  disposition,  to  no  purpose." 

"  But  have  we  a  right  to  keep  it?" 

Gaius  thought  they  had,  and  they  debated 
the  question  some  time.  At  length 


66 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPL 


sensibly  broke  up  the  discussion  by  asking 
abruptly: 

"  Which  of  the  patricians  did  you  see  most 
of,  Gaius?" 

"  Well,  Aulus  Clotius,  I  think.  He  is  very 
civil  to  strangers,  and  I  have  met  him  be- 
fore when  he  was  in  this  city." 

"  Let  me  see— he  is  the  officer  who  was 
conspicuous  in  the  last  triumphal  procession, 
is  he  not?" 

"  Yes,  the  son  of  Aleutius,  who  died  about 
thirteen  years  ago,  some  think  by  his  own 
hand,  because  Caligula  had  a  grudge  against 
him.  At  any  rate,  for  a  time  his  widow 
and  orphans,  though  not  banished,  lived  in 
great  seclusion  and  were  not  recognized  in 
Court  circles." 

"There  were  other  children,  then?" 

"  Yes,  one  other;  a  daughter,  I  think?" 

"And  where  is  she  now?" 

"  She  must  have  died  early.  Pamphylia 
referred  to  her  only  indirectly,  as  if  long 
since  lost  to  her.  Certainly  she  now  has  but 
the  one  son,  Aulus." 

A  few  weeks  later  Herklas  and  Agistha 
were  married  at  the  home  of  their  kind  pro- 
tector. Before  this  event  Herklas  fully  ex- 
plained to  both  Gaius  and  his  wife  his  future 
plans.  These  were,  that  he  was  to  be  in- 
stalled at  Thessalonica  as  deacon  of  the  new 
church  of  Christ,  and  instead  of  traveling 
about  the  country,  was  to  remain  perma- 
nently in  the  city  in  charge  of  a  shop  of  his 
own,  the  necessary  funds  having  been  lent 
him  by  wealthy  friends  in  that  body. 

January  was  chosen  as  the  time  for  the 
marriage,  that  being  a  favorite  nuptial 
month  with  the  Greeks,  and  before  the  day 
set,  Gaius,  in  a  talk  with  Herklas,  revealed 
what  he  knew  of  Agistha's  early  history, 
leaving  it  to  the  young  husband  to  repeat 
this  singular  story  to  her,  or  not,  as  he  chose. 
Herklas  was  not  ambitious  in  a  worldly 
way,  nor  did  he  wish  to  awaken  such  am- 
bitions in  his  wife,  so  after  much  thought 
he  decided  at  present  not  to  stir  up  the 
placid  waters  of  her  mind  with  such  discon- 
certing ideas,  fearing  like  Gaius  its  effect 
upon  her  peace.  Thus,  ignorant  of  all  but 
the  blessed  fact  that  she  "  had  been  bond 
but  now  was  free,"  both  bodily  and  spirit- 
ually, Agistha  entered  into  her  new  life. 

It  was  a  simple  ceremony  that  changed 
the  Greek  girl  into  the  matron,  partaking 
still  of  many  pagan  rites  and  ablutions,  but 
transfused  and  glorified  by  Christian  sacred- 
ness  and  depth  of  feeling.  Herklas  secured 


a  modest  house  in  the  gardens  back  of  the 
villa,  and  one  evening,  dressed  in  brave  at- 
tire, with  a  new  tunic  of  finest  linen  and  a 
girdle  of  silk  from  India,  he  entered  a 
chariot  drawn  by  mules  and  gayly  decorated 
with  vines  and  flowers. 

This  was  the  nuptial  car,  and  a  low  couch 
gorgeously  trimmed  in  honor  of  the  bride 
who  was  soon  to  be  borne  upon  it,  occupied 
its  entire  length.  On  one  side  sat  Herklas: 
on  the  other  Amasa,  who  acted  as  master  of 
ceremonies.  In  great  state,  to  low  and  win- 
some music,  they  were  driven  slowly 
through  the  streets,  the  people  turning  out  in 
throngs  to  shout  their  greetings;  and  thus 
even  before  they  were  in  sight,  Agistha, 
tremblingly  receiving  the  last  touches  to  her 
rich  attire,  lavishly  furnished  by  JEnone, 
heard  the  eager  shout,  "  Behold,  the  bride- 
groom cometh!"  and  begged  her  maids  of  a 
day  to  hurry. 

Soon  she  stood  within  the  atrium,  veiled 
from  head  to  foot,  her  delicately-clad  per- 
son emanating  perfumes,  her  arms  supported 
by  proud  mothers  of  boys  (that  thus  might 
their  happy  fortune  attend  her  new  life), 
and  awaited  her  groom.  The  car  drew 
nearer,  stopped.  The  music  grew  louder, 
more  insistent.  The  groom  entered  with  the 
violence  of  a  love  that  would  take  every- 
thing by  storm,  and  demanded  the  bride  of 
her  parents,  making  as  if  he  would  tear  her 
away;  all  mere  acting  of  course,  for  Gaius, 
who  stood  this  night  in  the  place  of  father 
to  the  blushing  Agistha,  readily  seconded 
the  groom  and  placed  her  hand  in  his,  which 
simple  ceremony  of  demanding  and  giving 
made  them  one. 

The  young  husband  then  led  his  bride  to 
the  chariot,  seating  her  on  the  couch-like 
throne,  and  placing  himself  at  her  side, 
while  Amasa  sat  behind  and  diverted  the 
crowd,  who  were  full  of  the  tricks  and 
merriment  common  at  a  wedding. 

All  the  younger  people  of  the  household 
formed  a  procession  with  torches,  garlands, 
bells,  and  musical  instruments  of  every  de- 
scription, and  amid  a  merry  din  they  left  the 
old  home  for  the  new.  The  doorposts  of  the 
latter  had  been  decorated  with  garlands  and 
ivy  leaves  and  laurel,  and  as  the  procession 
drew  near  it  the  custom  was  to  sing  a  song 
to  Hymen;  but  to-day  Herklas  had  begged 
the  singers  to  substitute  a  Christian  hymn, 
and  to  its  sweet  notes  of  praise  they  entered 
their  future  home  as  man  and  wife. 

Here  in  the  hall,  or  ostium.  stood  Jason's 
wife,  representing  the  groom's  mother,  and 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPL 


67 


room  to  banquet  with  her  female  com- 
panions, while  her  husband  received  his 
special  friends  in  the  larger  triclinium. 

The  feasting  lasted  several  days,  and 
sometimes  grew  wearisome  to  stomach  and 
purse.  The  day  following  the  marriage  the 
bride  and  her  maidens  were  kept  busy  open- 
friends,  not  only,  but  by  sycophants,  and  all 
who  had  private  ends  to  gain  with  her  lord, 
if  such  there  were.  The  most  of  Agistha's 
gifts  were  sent  in  real  affection,  however, 
for  she  had  endeared  herself  to  more  than 
were  found  in  the  household  of  Gaius,  while 
Herklas  was  a  universal  favorite. 

So  passed  a  few  days,  until  no  one  could 
depart  saying  the  master  of  the  feast  had 
been  niggardly  in  the  entertainment,  and 
then  came  a  still,  home-like  day  which  must 
have  been  very  welcome  to  the  loving 
couple.  All  the  guests  had  departed,  all  the 
turmoil  and  confusion  were  at  an  end,  and 
the  two  were  left  at  last  alone  to  prove  each 
other,  and  to  set  up  their  own  family  altar, 
undisturbed  by  friend  or  foe. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

HAPPENINGS  IN  PHILIPPL 

THE   faithful  at  Philippi   did   not  once 
lose  sight  of  Paul  in  his  wanderings, 
and  with   the  liberality  born  of  true 
love  often  sent  him  such  sums  as  they  could 
raise  for  his  relief,  which  were  carried  over 
the  road  by  devoted  brethren,   who  gladly 
undertook  the  journey  in  order  to  see  and 
converse     once     more     with     the     beloved 
Apostles. 

These  donations  were  wholly  voluntary, 
as  Paul,  no  matter  how  weary  with  the  day's 
toil,  often  worked  far  into  the  night  at  his 
trade  of  tent-making,  in  order  not  to  be  a 
burden  upon  his  hearers. 

Truly,  in  the  best  sense,  Paul  in  his  re- 
markable journeyings  at  this  time  proved 
that  he  was  "  all  things  to  all  men  "—courte- 
ous among  the  refined,  wise  among  the 
learned,  tactful  among  the  disputatious, 
busy  where  industry  told,  and  with  the 
greatest  patience  in  inaction,  when  waiting 
was  the  will  of  the  Lord. 


1     •          -i  I  **      ou*_      1.1  €4.  U      UC"11 

kindly  taught  by  Lydia.  Junius,  deprived 
of  his  office,  had  dropped  easily  into  the 
Despicable  role  of  an  idler— of  whom  there 
were  far  too  many  in  every  Grecian  town— 
and  sat  about  in  the  market-place  all  day, 
"  hearing  and  seeing  every  new  thing,"  dfs- 
cussing  public  affairs  with  others  of  like 
habits,  and  growing  daily  a  little  more  in- 
temperate, more  ragged,  and  more  un- 
ashamed, than  the  day  before. 

Elizabeth  seemed  much  the  same,  calm, 
serene  and  sweet,  but  the  contour  of  her 
face  sharpened  rapidly,  and  its  pallor  in- 
creased. She  depended  more  and  more  upon 
Salome  and  Nadab.  The  latter  was  growing 
fast  and  promised  to  be  her  greatest  solace 
and  support  in  time.  Thus  working  and  lov- 
ing together,  they  might  have  been  almost 
comfortable  but  for  the  fact  that  everything 
in  Philippi— its  business,  pleasure,  home  life, 
and  public  events— was  based  upon  pagan 
ceremonies,  and  as  Christians  our  little 
family  found  themselves  debarred  much  that 
was  otherwise  desirable. 

Even  in  the  basket-weaving  the  question 
of  expediency  or  brave  right-doing  often 
came  up.  Many  wished  the  symbols  of  the 
gods  woven  into  the  baskets,  or  ordered  such 
as  had  special  uses  in  and  about  the  temple 
services,  and  these  orders  Elizabeth  felt  she 
could  not  in  conscience  execute,  while 
Salome  was  hindered  from  preparing  the 
best  and  finest  fabrics  because  they  were 
for  the  use  of  priest,  or  Vestal,  or  to  adorn 
those  who  joined  in  the  processions  to  the 
gods.  No  Christian  could  in  the  slightest 
manner  assist  at  such  worship,  and  thus  the 
calling  of  each  often  suffered,  apparently, 
because  of  that  higher  calling  which  placed 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  first,  and  the  ac- 
quisitions of  this  world  last  and  least. 

Then,  too,  it  was  almost  impossible  to  ap- 
prentice Nadab  to  a  good  trade,  for  on  the 
one  side  the  heathen  master  preferred  a  boy 
of  his  own  faith  who  would  work,  worship, 
and  take  his  holidays  exactly  as  he  bade 
him,  while  on  the  other  Elizabeth  could  not 
bear  to  place  her  son  under  the  legal  con- 
trol of  a  master  who  "  loved  not  Christ  and 
his  righteousness." 

But  God  did  not  leave  them  desolate.  In 
their  own  congregation  they  were  loved  and 
honored,  and  when  help  was  absolutely 


63 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPL 


needed  it  always  came.  If  Junius  had  been 
one  with  them  they  would  have  considered 
themselves  well  off  in  their  humble  way,  but 
he  chose  to  attribute  to  the  score  of  their 
"  fanaticism  "  all  the  misfortunes  resulting 
from  his  own  conduct,  shifting  the  blame 
from  his  own  weak  shoulders,  where  it  be- 
longed. 

But  even  as  things  were,  they  did  not  re- 
pine. For  a  time,  indeed,  after  the  man's 
dismissal  Elizabeth  was  very  grave,  and 
each  morning  her  swollen  lids  betrayed  the 
night's  weeping;  but  one  day  she  came  forth 
from  her  chamber  with  bright  eyes,  a  smil- 
ing mouth,  and  an  air  of  such  lightness  and 
joy  that  each  one  noticed  and  said  something 
in  laughing  approval.  But  when  alone  with 
her,  Salome  hastened  to  ask: 

"  What  is  it,  dear?  You  look  so  glad,  so 
happy!  Has  Junius  promised  better  things?" 

Elizabeth  shook  her  head.  "  No,  little  sis- 
ter, it  is  our  Lord  who  has  promised,  and  I 
have  been  shutting  my  ears— that  is  all. 
Last  night,  as  I  lay  weeping,  it  all  came  to 
me  with  the  sharpness  of  a  rebuke.  Why 
should  I  weep  and  repine?  WThy  should  I 
bear  this  trouble  as  if  it  were  my  trouble 
alone?  Have  I  not  been  expressly  com- 
manded not  to  do  so?  I  remember  how 
Jesus  once  said  that  we  '  would  not  come  to 
Him  that  we  might  have  life,'  and  I  began 
to  wonder,  was  it  I  wTho  was  holding  aloof 
instead  of  Him,  as  I  had  felt?  Then  kept 
recurring  many,  many  words:  '  He  that 
cometh  to  me  shall  never  hunger,'  '  It  is  the 
wTill  of  my  Father  that  all  who  believe  shall 
have  everlasting  life,'  '  He  that  followeth 
me  shall  not  walk  in  darkness,'  and  that 
beautiful  request,  '  Come  unto  me,  all  ye 
heavy  laden,'  and  little  by  little  everything 
grew  clear.  I  had  no  right  to  agonize  thus 
over  my  husband— it  was  distrusting  Christ. 
It  was  as  if  I  were  bent  double  with  some 
heavy  load  and  a  stronger  offered  to  carry 
it,  saying.  '  It  is  really  my  load— give  it  to 
me!'  yet  I  would  still  persist  in  clinging  to 
the  dreadful  weight,  staggering  and  groan- 
ing at  every  step,  yet  blaming  that  other 
even  while  refusing  to  yield  the  burden;  and 
I  said,  '  Forgive  me,  Lord!  Junius  was 
yours  before  he  was  mine,  and  you  love  him. 
I  give  him  to  you  to  carry  and  to  save.  I 
will  do  my  human  best,  and  I  will  trust 
your  heavenly  wisdom  and  await  your  time. 
I  have  brought  my  burden— give  me  your 
comfort!'  And  oh!  Salome,  such  rest,  such 
peace  as  I  felt!  I  turned  over  and  slept  like 
a  little  child.  I  rose  like  a  glad  maiden  with 


no  care,  for  I  know  that  my  Lord  is  carry- 
ing my  burden,  that  I  may  rest  in  His  peace. 
Junius  is  His  now,  and  He  is  '  mighty  to 
save.'  " 

But  Salome  sometimes  felt  it  would  take  a 
stronger  faith  than  hers  to  be  certain  that 
Christ  would  save  the  surly,  stupid  man  who 
seemed  drifting  further  from  them  and  from 
all  good  with  every  passing  month.  The 
young  pagan  captain  was  the  only  one  of 
his  old  associates  who  seemed  to  have  any 
notice  or  care  for  him,  and  he  still  con- 
tinued to  show  a  friendly  interest  in  his 
affairs. 

Cleotas,  as  the  latter  was  called,  could  not 
readily  forget  Salome's  spirited  refusal  to 
take  part  in  the  Lenoea,  and,  with  his  mind 
thus  stirred  to  questioning,  he  watched  that 
feast  to  the  gods  with  new  eyes,  when  it 
took  place.  The  result  was  that  its  wanton- 
ness and  license  fairly  confounded  him,  and 
he  went  home  afterwards  (with  a  clearer 
head  than  ever  before)  to  ponder  over  this 
and  the  corresponding  spring  festival  called 
the  Bacchanalia,  in  which  he  had  always 
thoughtlessly  joined,  sleeping  off  the  fumes 
of  strong  wines  and  excitement  later,  with- 
out further  thought  than  perhaps  to  boast 
of  his  ability  to  keep  up  the  carousing  longer 
than  some  men. 

In  his  new  perplexities  he  naturally  sought 
counsel  among  his  friends,  and  of  these  the 
converted  jailer,  now  an  officer  of  the 
church,  came  first  to  mind  as  he  saw  him 
almost  daily  in  the  way  of  business. 
Through  him  he  was  led  to  seek  Luke,  the 
beloved  physician,  who  had  personal  care  of 
the  little  flock  in  Philippi  at  this  time,  and 
ere  long  Cleotas  became  a  true  believer  and 
helpful  member  of  this  body. 

In  the  assemblies,  held  oftenest  in  private 
houses,  he  constantly  met  Elizabeth  and 
Salome,  and  soon  learned  to  look  upon  them 
as  special  friends.  He  was  a  brave,  athletic 
fellow,  with  the  strong  man's  instinct  for 
protecting  all  helpless  creatures,  and  the  in- 
side knowledge  of  their  trials  which  had 
come  to  him  made  him  anxious  to  help  in 
every  way.  So,  whenever  possible,  he  gave 
Junius  employment  by  the  day,  and  secured 
public  orders  for  the  women,  such  as  weav- 
ing mats  for  the  justice  halls  and  offices,  or 
cloth  for  awnings  and  door  curtains. 

In  this  manner  he  won  his  way  into  their 
hearts,  and  no  one  thought  it  strange  or  un- 
suitable when,  three  years  after  Salome  be- 
came a  part  of  Elizabeth's  household,  she 
left  it  to  go  with  Cleotas  to  a  much  finer 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PH1L1PP1. 


69 


home,  as  his  honored  wife.  It  was,  even  in 
the  eyes  of  Lydia,  who  always  took  a 
motherly  interest  in  the  girl,  a  desirable 
marriage,  for  Cleotas  was  not  only  a  sincere 
Christian,  but  an  official  in  higli  standing, 
who  had  both  means  and  influence. 

Salome  could  now  show  her  gratitude,  and 
so  generous  was  she  that  Elizabeth's  cares 
were  greatly  lightened.  More  than  ihis, 
Cleotas  was  able  to  help  Nadab  onwards  in 
the  difficult  upward  climb  of  a  drunkard's 
son,  and  soon  after  the  marriage  made  the 
youth  his  deputy,  with  fair  pay,  and  every 
chance  for  promotion. 

During  all  this  time  Junius  seemed 
steadily  declining,  and  Elizabeth  still 
"  waited  upon  the  Lord  "  for  his  salvation. 
She  was  always  gentle,  and  as  loving  as 
she  could  be  with  one  of  his  disposition, 
while  her  treatment  of  him  at  his  worst 
was  courteous  and  considerate. 

Once  Salome,  stung  to  anger  by  an  exhibi- 
tion of  his  brutality  and  Elizabeth's  patience, 
cried  out  sharply,  after  he  had  stumbled 
from  their  presence: 

"  How  can  you  treat  him  like  that,  Eliza- 
beth? You  really  act  as  if  you  respected 
him!" 

Elizabeth  turned  to  the  speaker,  her  face 
radiant  with  a  great  thought. 

"  I  do,"  she  said  gently.  "  He  belongs  to 
God;  he  is  one  of  the  sinners  bought  with 
a  great  price,  for  all  innocence,  all  virtue,  all 
faith,  suffer  through  his  degradation.  But 
Christ  loves  him,  and  it  is  His  will  to  save 
him.  I  must  respect  him  then,  Salome;  I 
dare  not  do  otherwise!" 

And  Junius,  through  the  slow  deterioration 
of  heart  and  brain,  felt  this,  and  secretly 
clung  to  it  as  a  sailor  submerged  in  deep 
and  surging  waters  clings  to  the  rope  thrown 
from  the  stately,  steady  ship-  riding  calmly 
above  him. 

"  I  am  a  man!"  he  would  tell  himself  with 
a  thickened  tongue.  "  I  am  Elizabeth's  hus- 
band, and  she  looks  up  to  me.  I  will  have 
to  get  the  better  of  this  sometime— yes,  I 
certainly  will." 

But  the  days  slid  by  and  his  resolves  with 
them.  The  line  seemed  very  slack  now,  and 
he  hardly  felt  its  \n\\\  in  those  thick,  slimy 
waters.  But  ofttimes,  on  the  ship,  the  cap- 
tain can  both  feel  and  clearly  see  the  rope 
which  the  half-drowned  sailor  scarcely 
knows  has  been  thrown  to  him.  Elizabeth 
knew  it  must  be  plain  to  the  All-seeing  Eye, 
and,  groping  by  faith,  she  felt  it  too,  and 
never  ceased  to  pray  and  to  believe. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 
A  GLIMPSE  AT  COURT  LIFE  IN  ROME. 

AS  the  intrigues,  splendors,  amusements 
and  successes  of  his  life  at  court  tilled 
Hector's  time  and  thoughts,  so  did  the 
holy  influences,  once  powerfully  felt,  suffer 
neglect  and  decay.  The  virtues,  especially 
those  of  truth  and  love,  were  not  in  demand 
among  that  inner  circle  of  patricians  who 
occupied  the  royal  mansions.  These  per- 
fectly understood  that  the  Emperor  Claudius 
was  a  drunkard;  his  wife  Agrippina  a 
shameless  intriguer  whose  hands  were  not 
free  from  the  stain  of  blood;  her  son  Nero — 
while  outwardly  a  brilliant  and  beautiful 
boy— in  reality  an  ambitious  tool  without 
conscience  or  compassion;  and  even  Burrhus 
and  Seneca,  statesman  and  philosopher, 
though  the  brightest  stars  in  that  night  of 
sin,  were  often  found  stooping  to  hypocrisy 
and  time-serving,  hopeless  to  hasten  the 
dawning. 

How  then  could  a  young  man  entirely  de- 
pendent upon  courtly  favor  do  otherwise 
than  follow  the  lead  of  his  betters  and  learn 
to  close  his  eyes  and  ears,  repress  natural 
right  feeling,  and  simply  do  as  he  was  bid- 
den, neither  asking  questions  nor  making 
comments? 

So  thought  Hector:  for  looking  about,  he 
found  no  Daniels  in  Ctesar's  household,  and, 
failing  either  outward  or  inward  moral  sup- 
port, he  grew  nearly  as  reckless  and  ready 
in  crime  as  the  rest. 

He  had  not  been  two  years  in  Rome  when 
there  was  a  complete  change  in  the  govern- 
ment. The  weak  Claudius  was  dead,  having 
been  poisoned  by  his  wife,  and  Nero,  her 
son,  had  been  declared  Cfesar  by  the  Prae- 
torian Guards  before  Brittanicus,  own  sou 
of  the  murdered  emperor,  fully  knew  that 
his  father's  sudden  illness  was  fatal.  So  per- 
fectly and  secretly  did  the  subtle  Agrippina 
lay  her  plots  and  mature  her  plans. 

Aulus  Clotius  was  naturally  a  strong  ad- 
herent of  Nero's,  and  the  accession  brought 
him  new  honors.  He  was  made  Tribunus 
Celerum.  commander  of  the  Royal  Guards, 
and  he  and  his  household  were  invited  to 
live  under  the  Imperial  roof,  which  was 
large  enough  to  house  over  a  thousand  peo- 
ple in  roomy  luxury.  Hector  advanced  with 
him  and  won  favor  with  the  amusement-lov- 
ing Nero  because  of  his  wrestling  powers. 
Many  a  time,  after  a  surfeiting  banquet,  the 
Greek  was  called  in  to  amuse  the  company. 


70 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPL 


and  was  pitted  in  private  combat  against 
some  gladiator  famed  for  his  skill  in  the 
arena.  Aulus  sometimes  told  his  client 
laughingly  that  Caesar  only  sought  a  good 
opportunity  to  consign  him  to  the  same  fate, 
and  that  if  ever  he  lost  the  favor  of  the 
court  he  might  know  what  his  punishment 
would  be — death  in  the  amphitheatre. 

At  present,  however,  Hector  stood  well, 
and  any  disgrace  seemed  far  away.  He  had 
been  made  a  centurion  in  the  Imperial 
Guards,  and  had  a  suite  of  apartments  in  one 
of  the  palace  wings  called  the  Praetorium. 
Here  he  lived  in  luxury  writh  his  family— his 
wife  Celeste,  once  the  pretty  Gallic  slave 
girl,  now  a  freedwoman  through  the  gener- 
osity of  her  mistress,  and  his  two  little  chil- 
dren, a  boy  and  a  girl.  During  Nero's  early 
reign  Aulus  had  been  out  upon  one  long 
campaign  in  which  Hector  accompanied  him, 
proving  so  brave  and  sturdy  an  adherent 
that  the  tie  between  them  grew  brotherly  in 
its  strength. 

Pamphylia  and  Julia,  hearing  how,  in  close 
combat,  Hector  had  twice  interposed  his 
body  and  shield  between  their  lord  and  the 
spear  of  a  fierce  barbarian,  felt  they  owed 
him  much,  and  when  the  warriors  returned 
gladly  promoted  the  marriage  between  him- 
self and  the  favorite  Celeste,  making  her 
free  that  she  might  not  dishonor  him  by  a 
misalliance. 

So  everything  went  smoothly  on  the  out- 
side for  Hector— but  how  was  it  within?  A 
house  left  to  perfect  tranquillity  through 
disuse  should,  it  would  seem,  be  better  pre- 
served than  one  kept  in  constant  service, 
with  childish  feet  pattering  about,  and  a 
busy  family  giving  it  hard  knocks.  But  this 
Is  not  true.  The  disused  house  begins  a 
slow,  silent  deterioration  from  the  minute 
the  family  departs.  Wind,  sun,  rain,  and 
worm,  take  arms  against  it,  to  batter,  scorch, 
rot,  and  burrow,  from  roof  to  foundation, 
and  unless  bright,  active  life  comes  into  it 
again,  the  house  is  doomed. 

So  it  is  with  a  man's  soul.  When  busy 
care,  anxiety,  temptation  even,  beset  it  with- 
out and  within,  while  the  love  of  Christ  fills 
every  part,  it  grows  only  stronger  and  better 
for  the  attrition;  but  let  the  love-light  die 
out,  let  prosperity  slowly  smother  it  in  out- 
side beauty,  and  it  surely  tends  to  extinc- 
tion. The  soul  of  Hector  was  thus  rapidly 
falling  into  ruin  because  too  inactive  and  too 
empty,  till  deeds  which  had  at  first  thrilled 
him  with  horror  caused  but  a  shrug  of  the 
shoulders,  perhaps. 


It  was  popular  to  join  in  the  processions, 
so  he  and  his  family  were  sure  to  be  promi- 
nent in  these  events,  however  immodest  or 
grotesque  they  might  be;  for  the  same  reason 
he  was  always  at  the  cruel  gladiatorial  con- 
tests in  the  amphitheatre,  watching  them 
with  an  interest  possible  only  to  one  who 
understood  what  strength  and  skill  they  in- 
volved, and  too  often  he  would  not  turn 
down  his  thumbs  to  save  a  poor  overpow- 
ered wretch,  because  in  his  own  proud 
strength  he  felt  that  the  defeated  gladiator 
had  been  too  easy  a  prey. 

Besides  all  these  comparatively  innocent 
employments,  were  many  he  never  spoke  of 
even  in  his  own  home,  for  was  he  not,  with 
his  one  hundred  men,  always  at  the  beck  of 
Nero?  What  this  secret  service  meant  under 
his  guidance,  made  Hector  at  first  recoil  and 
perchance  try  to  withdraw  from  active  par- 
ticipation. But  to  what  purpose?  He  was  in 
a  net,  and  its  meshes  tightened  with  every 
crime  committed. 

Hector,  however,  salved  over  his  con- 
science with  the  law  made  applicable  to 
slaves,  "  A  servant  can  do  no  crime  when 
he  fulfills  only  the  will  of  his  master," 
though  he  could  not  at  all  times  stifle  his 
self-disgust. 

Thus  passed  the  first  five  "  good  years."  as 
they  were  called,  of  Nero's  reign,  because, 
with  all  their  extravagance  and  crime,  they 
were  as  nothing  to  what  followed.  During 
this  era  the  young  Nero  found  enough  satis- 
faction in  the  license  and  power  of  his  posi- 
tion to  leave  the  governing  of  the  Empire 
mostly  to  his  wise  counselors,  Burrhus  and 
Seneca,  hence  the  outside  world  had  little  to 
complain  of.  But  within  the  palace  were  all 
forms  of  wickedness.  The  young  Brittan- 
icus.  whose  only  crime  was  that  he  belonged 
by  right  on  the  throne,  was  poisoned  as  his 
father  had  been;  and  his  girl  sister,  who 
drew  every  breath  in  fear,  was  set  aside  for 
a  slave  woman,  though  her  marriage  with 
Nero  gave  her  the  empty  title  of  Empress. 

Of  all  these  events  Hector  had  a  superficial 
knowledge,  of  some  a  conviction  so  deep 
that  the  stains  rested  heavily  on  his  own 
soul,  and  yet  each  passing  year  greeted  him 
as  "  a  prosperous  man." 

It  was  nearly  fifty-nine,  over  six  years 
since  the  memorable  night  when  Hector,  a 
brave,  unsullied  youth,  tore  through  the 
streets  of  Philippi  calling  aloud  for  his  sis- 
ter. He  had  just  risen  from  his  banqueting 
couch  after  the  evening  meal,  and  was  play- 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


71 


ing  with  his  youngest  child,  a  sweet  little 
girl,  named  in  that  sister's  memory,  Salome, 
when  the  door  opened  to  admit  a  page,  who 
announced  Aulus  Clotius,  always  a  welcome 
guest. 

Hector  laughingly  rose  from  his  somewhat 
undignified  posture  on  the  rug,  and  put  the 
baby  by  to  greet  his  friend  and  patron. 

"  Ah,  my  lord  tribune,  you  have  caught  me 
without  my  visor!"  he  cried  merrily:  to 
which  Aulus  quickly  made  reply: 

"  But  thank  the  gods  I  am  not  an  enemy!" 

Their  greeting  was  warm  and  brotherly, 
and  they  placed  themselves  side  by  side, 
ready  for  intimate  discourse. 

Age  had  not  greatly  changed  cither's  ap- 
pearance. Hector  had  broadened,  and  his 
bearing  was  distinctly  military.  Aulus  was 
lined  more  with  dissipation  than  with  years, 
but  his  easy,  carelessly  good-natured  air 
still  clung  to  him.  Both  were  handsome 
men,  and,  one  in  his  official  purple,  the  other 
in  his  military  scarlet,  attracted  admiration 
everywhere.  They  flung  a  kiss  after  the 
grieving  child,  as  she  was  ruthlessly  borne 
away  by  her  nurse,  then  Aulus  turned  and 
fixed  his  keen  eyes  directly  upon  Hector 
with  the  abrupt  question: 

"Have  you  heard  the  news?" 

"  No;  what  is  it?" 

"  Nero  Caesar  and  his  mother,  the  Augusta, 
have  had  another  bitter  quarrel  this  even- 
ing, and  she  has  threatened  to  leave  the  pal- 
ace this  very  night.  She  is  now  in  her  apart- 
ments talking  excitedly  with  her  maids,  and 
I  have  been  privately  requested  to  bring  you 
to  the  triclinium,  where  Nero  still  remains, 
that  he  may  give  you  some  orders." 

"  To  what  purpose?"  asked  Hector  quickly, 
knitting  his  brows.  "  What  would  he  with 
the  mother  who  raised  him  to  the  throne  of 
the  Caesars?" 

"  I  know  not,"  answered  Aulus  gloomily, 
"  but  he  is  purple  with  rage  and  drinking 
more  heavily  than  usual.  I  am  told  it  went 
so  far  that  he  even  snatched  off  a  precious 
amulet  she  gave  him  the  night  he  was  de- 
clared Emperor,  and  flung  it  in  her  face, 
saying  he  would  have  none  of  the  good  for- 
tune it  brought  if  she  must  be  always  taunt- 
ing him  with  having  received  it  through 
her." 

"Bah!    He  was  intoxicated." 

"  No,  the  meal  had  scarcely  begun.  He 
has  been  gracious  all  day,  and  sent  for 
Agrippina  and  his  poor  little  wife  to  ban- 
quet with  him.  I  presume  it  is  the  same 
trouble.  He  wanted  some  favor  for  Poppoea, 


and  that  always  makes  the  Augusta  furious. 
But  come,  the  Emperor  awaits  you." 

While  thus  conversing  Hector  had  been 
swiftly  exchanging  his  easy,  uugirdled 
house-tunic  for  the  military  costume  he  must 
always  wear  on  duty  or  in  the  presence  of 
the  Court,  and  soon,  trimly  girdled,  hel- 
meted,  and  buskined,  he  followed  his  noble 
friend  across  numerous  courts  and  gardens 
of  artistic  beauty  to  the  rose  terrace,  a  mag- 
nificent enclosure  near  that  part  of  the  pal- 
ace occupied  by  its  head.  Connecting  with 
this  was  a  small  court,  palm-shaded  and 
fountain-cooled,  and  before  entering  this 
Aulus  stopped  and  took  from  his  bosom  a 
large  kerchief. 

"  I  am  ordered  to  blindfold  you,"  he  re- 
marked quietly. 

"What?"  cried  Hector,  drawing  back  with 
the  quick  suspicion  engendered  by  the  trick- 
ery of  the  age.  "  Why  say  you  that?" 

Aulus  smiled  at  the  other's  manner,  and 
went  on  calmly  folding  the  linen  square. 

"  Do  you  not  trust  even  me.  Hector?"  he 
asked  with  a  hint  of  sadness  in  his  tone. 
"  But  then,  why  should  you?"  he  added 
quickly.  "  Who  is  to  be  trusted  here?  Well, 
friend,  I  must  cover  your  eyes  simply  be- 
cause I  am  to  take  you  in  by  a  secret  pas- 
sage which  you  are  not  to  know— that  is  all." 
"  secret  passages  lead  to  dungeons — and 
worse!"  Hector  muttered. 

"  Oh,  come,  my  bold  soldier,  you  have 
nothing  to  fear.  You  are  not  yet  high  enough 
to  excite  the  jealousy  of  Caesar,  so  be  at 
peace,  and  thank  Mars  that  you  are  only  a 
centurion.  Bend  lower,  please;  I  cannot 
reach  you." 

Hector  obeyed,  but  still  with  dissatisfac- 
tion, and  after  being  tightly  bandaged,  was 
led  some  distance  and  by  many  turns  to  a 
small  door  in  the  wall,  guarded  only  by  one 
sentinel,  who  stood  inside,  and  admitted 
them  after  hearing  a  peculiar  knock— four 
slow,  distinct  taps  for  the  word  Nero,  and  a 
loud  and  imperative  one  at  the  end  for  his 
title,  Caesar— whereupon  the  door  flew  open. 
Traversing  what  was,  could  Hector  have 
seen,  a  long  and  narrow  corridor,  with  no 
light  except  from  lamps  kept  ever  burning, 
they  turned  into  another  at  right  angles  to 
it,  crossed  this  obliquely,  and  stopped  at  a 
door,  where  Aulus  whispered  the  password 
into  another  sentinel's  ear,  then  pressed  his 
thumb  upon  one  of  the  panels,  at  which  the 
door  flew  open.  The  sentinel  stepped  re- 
spectfully aside,  Aulus  drew  his  companion 
through  the  narrow  aperture,  and  it  clicked 


72 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPL 


to  behind  them.  Hector  drew  in  his  breath 
a  little  at  the  sound.  He  had  heard  that 
ominous  click  many  a  time  when  he  had 
been  on  the  right  side  of  the  door,  and  some 
poor  wretch  upon  the  other,  and  it  thrilled 
him  now  to  the  finger  tips. 

"  Take  off  your  bandage,"  said  Aulus  in 
his  reassuringly  calm  voice;  and  the  Greek 
obeyed. 

He  looked  about  upon  a  rather  small  apart- 
ment, surrounded  by  statuary,  the  panels 
between  the  full-length  figures  being  cut  into 
niches.  These  were  fitted  with  doors  of  rich 
citron-wood  carved  into  the  fineness  of  lace- 
work,  through  which  he  could  catch 
glimpses  of  rolls  and  mounted  sheets  of 
papyrus,  the  former  slipped  into  cases  of 
burnished  gold,  delicately-carved  ivory, 
satin-wood,  or  embossed  leather,  the  latter, 
called  tablets,  stacked  up  and  held  in  place 
by  weights  of  carnelian,  agate,  or  malachite. 
It  was,  indeed,  the  tablinum,  or  room  for  the 
preservation  of  the  family  archives,  and  was 
approached  by  this  secret  passage  from  one 
side,  while  from  the  other  it  opened  into  the 
larger  bibliotheca,  or  library,  a  handsome 
apartment,  more  for  show  than  use  in  this 
palace.  At  right  angles  was  a  curtained 
archway  which  gave  a  long  vista  of  rich 
apartments  for  family  use,  and  opposite  that 
was  the  door  leading  into  Caesar's  private 
triclinium,  or  dining-room. 

The  secret  door  through  which  the  men 
had  entered  was  now  invisible.  Hector's 
roving  gaze  could  neither  place  it  nor  con- 
jecture where  it  might  be,  for  before  re- 
moving the  bandage  he  had  been  given  a 
whirl  or  two,  and  knew  not  which  way  he 
was  faced  upon  entering.  The  door,  in  fact, 
was  what  appeared  to  be  one  of  the  niches 
for  the  books,  and  was  known  to  only  a  very 
few  in  the  palace.  Even  the  guards  in  the 
passage  were  led  thence  blindfolded,  by  a 
trusty  officer,  and  had  little  idea  of  its  situ- 
ation. 

Our  friends  stepped  along  the  tablinum  to 
the  door  of  the  banqueting  room,  from 
which  issued  sounds  of  an  angry  voice,  and 
occasional  laughter.  Aulus  swept  aside 
its  heavy  curtain,  motioned  to  the  page,  and 
the  two  were  at  once  ushered  into  the  pres- 
ence of  that  Emperor  whom  a  fawning 
populace  was  taught  to  worship  as  a  god. 
He  looked  little  enough  like  it  now.  He  lay 
sprawling  on  a  couch  gorgeous  with  gilding 
and  Persian  stuffs,  evidently  satiated  with 
food  and  helpless  with  wine.  Upon  other 
couches  scarcely  less  splendid  were  stretched 


two  of  his  favorites,  their  garments  and 
jewels  vying  with  his  own  in  richness,  and 
their  countenances  bloated  with  overfeeding 
and  drinking.  The  room  was  softly  lighted 
with  gilded  lamps,  and  a  shower  of  per- 
fumed waters  fell  in  a  soft  spray  from  a 
small  fountain  just  within  the  half-circle 
made  by  the  crescent-shaped  table.  This 
table  was  heaped  with  every  delicacy, 
served  on  gold  and  silver  plate,  and  velvet- 
shod  slaves  passed  to  and  fro,  handing  about 
the  viands  and  instantly  removing  the  stains 
of  wine  carelessly  spilled  by  the  intoxicated 
men.  Nero  was  talking  fast  and  furiously, 
while  the  others  sometimes  laughed,  some- 
times applauded,  with  drunken  gravity. 

The  couches  on  which  the  women  had 
rested  for  the  short  time  their  presence  was 
allowed,  were  pushed  back  out  of  the  way, 
and  just  as  our  friends  entered,  Nero  was 
amusing  himself  and  ending  a  sentence  by 
flinging  at  the  Augusta's  a  full  wine-glass, 
which  shattered  against  its  woodwork  and 
ruined  its  gold-embroidered  cushions. 

This  ought  to  have  relieved  him,  but  evi- 
dently did  not,  for,  seeing  the  two  new-com- 
ers bowing  low  before  him,  he  jerked  him- 
self to  a  sitting  posture  and  began  swearing 
at  them,  while  each — inwardly  fnming 
though  he  was— could  only  bow  the  deeper, 
and  meekly  submit  to  the  indignity. 

When  Nero's  fury  had  expended  itself 
somewhat,  he  cried  abruptly: 

"Well,  speak,  can  you  not?  What  have 
you  come  for,  Aulus?" 

"  To  bring  the  centurion  Hector,  as  Crcsar 
commanded,"  returned  the  patrician  as 
shortly  as  he  dared. 

"  I  commanded?    Who  says  so?" 

Evidently  the  fumes  of  wine  had  be- 
clouded his  memory  for  the  moment. 
Tigellinus,  boldest  of  his  favorites,  laughed 
and  said  ironically: 

"  How  convenient  is  a  short  memory! 
Has  Caesar  forgotten  his  grievance,  also?" 

"  No!"  bellowed  the  royal  son,  as  he 
thought  of  his  mother's  defiance  of  his 
wishes,  and  stern  admonitions  of  his  folly. 
"  No,  and  now  I  remember  all.  I  sent  for 
Hector  because  he  belongs  to  my  guards." 

"  Assuredly,  Cresar." 

"  But  I  ao  not  need  you,  Aulus.  Get  out, 
will  you?" 

The  coarse  command  made  the  haughty 
young  patrician  turn  white,  but  he  must 
needs  swallow  his  chagrin,  bow  low,  and 
back  out,  almost  prostrating  himself  at 
every  step.  He  accomplished  the  feat  with 


THE   WBESTLEE  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


outward  equanimity,  but  Aulus  Clotius 
never  forgot  that  thickly-uttered  order,  nor 
the  sneering  laugh  from  the  two  favorites 
that  followed  his  withdrawal.  It  was  per- 
haps his  first  real  rebuff,  but  by  no  means 
his  last,  for  Nero  was  already  growing 
jealous  of  his  musical  talent,  which  threat- 
ened to  surpass  his  own.  He  had  been 
vaguely  made  to  feel  the  royal  displeas- 
ure in  various  ways,  but  this  was  the 


73 

sionless,  under  the  imperial  scrutiny.  Long 
practice  as  a  guard  had  made  it  possible  for 
him  to  seem  more  like  a  statue  than  a  man. 
"  Well,  you  will  do,  methinks,"  said  Nero 
at  last,  with  a  laugh.  "  My  beloved  mother, 
the  Augusta,"  (the  words  were  a  sneer) 
"  wishes  to  leave  the  palace  to-night,  and  I, 
Caesar,  desire  that  she  should  do  so.  She 
must  of  course  be  properly  attended.  See 
that  she  is.  Do  you  understand  V" 


"Then  act!    A  good  servant  does  not  need  specific  directions;  he  allows  circumstances  to 
aid  him."— See  page  74. 


first  actual  rebuff,  and  even  Nero  would  not 
have  gone  so  far  but  for  his  inflamed  con- 
dition, which  made  him  scarcely  account- 
able for  what  he  said. 

"  Come  forward!"  he  commanded  as  Aulus 
disappeared;  and  Hector,  fired  with  indig- 
nation for  his  friend,  slowly  approached  the 
royal  couch. 

"  I  want  to  look  at  you,"  said  the  Emperor 
with  a  hiccough.  "  I  want  to  see  what  stuff 
you  are  made  of." 

Hector    stood    motionless,    almost    expres- 


Hector  bowed  low,  his  hand  at  his  visor. 
Given  permission  to  speak,  he  asked  defer- 
entially: 

"  Does  Caesar  desire  that  the  Augusta  shall 
have  a  guard  in  addition  to  those  in  her  own 
employ  V" 

"  Yes,  Csesar  does!"  mimicked  the  em- 
peror in  the  tone  of  a  hectoring  child,  for 
Nero  could  not  be  kingly  when  he  was  in- 
toxicated. "  If  her  guards  should  grow  quar- 
relsome on  the  road  and  the  Augusta  be  in 
danger,  overpower  them  with  your  stronger 


74 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPI. 


guard  and  make  her  safe  and  quiet.  Do  you 
follow  ine?" 

Hector  repressed  a  shiver  of  loathing,  and 
bowed  assentingly. 

"  Then  act!  A  good  servant  does  not  need 
specific  directions;  he  allows  circumstances 
to  aid  him.  Given  a  lonely  night  road,  one 
or  two  women  in  litters,  and  a  lot  of  drunken 
guards  ready  for  a  fight,  and  what  chance 
will  there  be  for  those  women,  eh?" 

The  leer  which  accompanied  these  words 
filled  Hector,  hardened  as  he  was,  with  hor- 
ror. For  an  instant  his  fingers  fairly  tingled 
with  the  desire  to  throttle  the  ruffian  who 
could  so  coolly  plan  for  the  death  of  a 
mother  who  had  been  the  sole  instigator  of 
his  present  elevation. 

The  Greek  swallowed  his  wrath,  glad  that 
he  had  no  cause  to  speak  and  thus  betray 
himself,  and  bowed  to  the  ground.  Nero 
beckoned  him  nearer,  spoke  a  few  rapid  sen- 
tences in  a  lower  tone,  then  with  a  careless 
wave  of  his  jeweled  hand  dismissed  him, 
after  which  he  lifted  the  richly-colored  glass 
of  Falernian  wine  to  his  lips  with  as  much 
unction  as  if  he  had  not  just  ordered  the 
murder  of  the  mother  who  bore  him! 

Hector  bowed  himself  from  the  room,  the 
obsequious,  well-trained  servant  outwardly— 
the  disgusted,  rebellious  officer  within.  But 
luckily  for  him  Nero  never  looked  below  the 
surface,  and  at  that  date  had  not  dreamed 
that  any  would  dare  defy  him. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

CLEOTAS. 

AULUS  was  waiting  in  the  tablinum, 
still  white  and  cold  from  his  rebuff. 
Silently  he  again  bandaged  Hector's 
eyes  before  leading  him  outside,  and  not  a 
word  was  spoken  until  in  the  outer  court 
once  more,  when,  snatching  off  the  kerchief, 
he  asked  with  a  grim  smile: 

"  Well,  is  she  to  be  murdei-ed?" 

Hector  started.  It  was  an  ugly  word  to 
use  in  reference  to  a  royal  commission.  But 
he  answered  as  bluntly: 

"  That  is  the  substance  of  it— yes.  I  am  to 
attend  her  with  my  guards,  and  when  they 
get  into  a  tumult — " 

"  Who  get  into  a  tumult?" 

"  Her  soldiers  and  mine." 

"Oh,  I  see!"  laughing  shortly.  "Well, 
when  they  do?" 


"  Then  she  and  her  women  are  to  be — dis- 
patched," was  the  gloomy  answer. 

"It  is  a  nice  commission!"  observed 
Aulus  sarcastically.  "I  do  not  envy  you. 
How  will  you  do  it?  The  knife  or  the  bat- 
tle-axe?" 

"  The  latter.  It  will  look  more  as  if  the 
men  did  the  deed  in  desperation,  simply  to 
stop  their  screams.  Her  guards  are  then  to 
be  overpowered,  bound,  and  brought  back 
to  be  charged  with  the  crime,  while  my  men 
receive  a  sestertium  apiece  for  their  brave 
defense  of  her." 

Aulus  laughed  outright.  "How  ingenious! 
Nero  never  thought  that  out— it  came  from 
the  fertile  brain  of  Tigellinus.  And  the  cen- 
turion of  this  brave  band,  my  friend  Hector, 
how  much  does  he  receive?" 

"  Ten  sestercia,"  was  the  prompt  reply; 
but  in  the  tone  was  all  the  self-loathing  Hec- 
tor felt  over  the  horrid  deed. 

Aulus  turned  and  looked  at  him.  "  It  is 
not  the  work  for  soldiers,  friend." 

"  No,  I  can  meet  the  lances  of  the  Bedouins 
with  coolness,  but  this  work  gives  me  a 
horror,"  assented  the  Greek  with  fervor. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  the  tribune  in  a  dif- 
ferent tone,  "  I  believe  there  is  only  one  man 
in  this  palace  who  cannot  be  bought  by 
Nero's  gold." 

"And  who  is  that?" 

"  He  is  an  officer  lately  sent  here  with  dis- 
patches from  Philippi,  and  his  name  is 
Cleotas— a  tall,  brave,  honest-eyed  fellow. 
Nero,  as  you  know,  enjoys  brow-beating 
these  ministers  from  the  provincial  towns, 
so  he  began  asking  him  about  the  Christians 
there,  and  said  in  that  hateful,  tantalizing 
manner  of  his,  '  I  hear  you  have  a  large  and 
flourishing  church  of  that  sect— how  is  this?" 
Cleotas  answered  him  respectfully  that  they 
were  indeed  flourishing,  and  it  was  doubt- 
less owing  to  the  fact  that  some  good  men 
had  labored  there,  converting  many.  Then 
Caesar  began  telling  him  that  such  a  report 
put  the  city  in  a  bad  light  with  the  govern- 
ment, and  added,  '  We  shall  expect  you  and 
your  Duumvirs  to  see  that  this  religion  does 
not  spread  further,  for  we  have  no  sym- 
pathy with  it;  and  as  for  these  "  good  men  " 
you  speak  of,  if  they  are  like  that  Paulus 
of  whom  we  are  constantly  advised  as  stir- 
ring up  the  people  all  through  that  region, 
the  less  we  hear  and  see  of  them  the  better. 
Put  all  such  seditions  down  with  a  firm 
hand.'  And  then  what  does  that  bold  Mace- 
donian do  but  answer,  '  Then  let  Csesar  ap- 
point a  new  officer  to  serve  in  my  place,  for 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPI. 


75 


I,  Cleotas,  am  a  Christian  also.'  The  words 
fairly  took  us  off  our  feet!  Even  Nero 
started  on  his  throne.  Everybody  looked  to 
see  the  foolhardy  ambassador  ordered  to  a 
dungeon  at  once,  and  the  guards  grasped 
their  short  swords  involuntarily,  when,  to 
the  astonishment  of  the  whole  assembly, 
Nero  burst  out  into  a  good-natured  laugh. 
'  You  evidently  are  not  used  to  courts,  my 
rustic  friend,'  he  said  leniently,  '  and  Caesar 
will  appoint  when  and  whom  he  chooses. 
For  the  present  Cleotas  of  Macedonia  holds 
the  office,  and  must  exercise  it  in  all  justice 
to  our  advantage.'  The  man  bowed  low, 
but  before  he  could  speak  again,  I,  who  had 
attended  him  to  the  audience  room,  began 
my  retreat,  making  him  an  imperative  sign 
to  follow,  for  I  had  no  notion  to  stay  there 
till  I  saw  the  bold,  true-hearted  fellow  con- 
signed to  the  torture.  When  I  had  him 
safely  outside  I  muttered,  '  For  Jupiter's 
sake,  Cleotas,  how  dared  you?  Men  have 
been  flung  to  the  beasts  for  less!'  " 

"And  what  did  he  say?"  asked  Hector, 
deeply  interested. 

"  He  coolly  told  me  he  knew  that  perfectly 
well,  but  he  had  no  fear;  his  Master  was  a 
greater  than  Caesar,  and  '  Him  only  should 
he  serve.' " 

"  But  the  strange  thing  is  that  the  Em- 
peror should  take  it  in  that  way,"  mused 
Hector.  "  He  is  not  wont  to  be  so  easy  with 
men." 

"True  enough!  I  heard,  however,  that  he 
said  afterwards  to  Burrhus  that  he  was  so 
sick  of  fawning  and  flattery  that  the  fel- 
low's boldness  seemed  quite  refreshing;  and 
he  certainly  is  letting  him  go  without  fur- 
ther instructions  against  the  Christians." 

"Is  the  man  still  here,  then?"  asked  Hec- 
tor quickly.  "  I  would  like  to  see  a  country- 
man once  more,  and  such  a  brave  one! 
Where  can  he  be  found,  my  lord?" 

"  He  is  lodged  in  one  of  the  towers— I  can 
show  you  the  place.  But  have  you  the 
time?  When  does  the  Augusta  start?" 

"  Of  that  I  cannot  be  certain.  One  is  ap- 
pointed to  watch  and  let  me  know.  Mean- 
while I  have  but  to  order  my  guards  to  be  in 
readiness,  and  wait  in  my  rooms  for  the 
word.  If  only  he  would  come  to  see  me 
there!" 

"And  why  not?  I  will  apprize  him  of 
your  wish,  and,  if  he  is  not  too  hurried, 
bring  him  with  me." 

"  Ah,  my  lord,  you  are  always  more  than 
kind  to  me." 

"  And  take  it  out  of  you  in  return  when- 


ever possible!"  laughed  Aulus,  as  with  a 
wave  of  his  hand  he  hurried  away. 

Hector  had  not  been  long  in  his  own 
atrium  when,  with  a  flourish,  the  little  pasre 
announced  the  two  guests.  With  his  heart 
beating  unaccountably  our  centurion  arose 
and  stepped  forward  to  greet  his  fellow- 
townsman.  He  saw  a  tall,  frank,  keen-eyed 
man  of  something  over  thirty,  with  an  ex- 
pression denoting  good-humor  and  firmness 
in  about  equal  proportions.  The  two  greeted 
each  other  with  warmth  and  soon  were  deep 
in  talk,  Hector  eagerly  asking,  and  Clotas 
fully  answering,  questions  about  Philippi  in 
general  and  some  of  its  inhabitants  in  par- 
ticular. 

When  they  had  talked  some  time  Hector 
observed  slowly,  \vith  a  long  sigh: 

"I  was  very  happy  there!  I  should  never 
have  left,  but  for  the  loss  of  my  sister." 

"  She  died,  then?"  asked  Cleotas  sympa- 
thetically. 

"  I  could  almost  say  I  hope  so,  though  I 
do  not  know,"  returned  Hector  in  a  tone  of 
deep  sadness.  Then,  as  if  impelled  by  some 
impulse  stronger  than  his  usual  reticence 
about  private  matters,  he  repeated  in  detail 
the  story  of  that  eventful  night. 

The  two  men  listened  in  perfect  silence — 
Aulus  with  the  peculiar  air  of  deprecating 
sympathy  he  always  wore  when  the  matter 
was  referred  to;  Cleotas  with  his  keen  eyes 
fixed  upon  Hector,  wonder  and  conviction 
growing  in  their  depths.  The  latter  had 
barely  finished  when  the  Philippian  broke 
out  excitedly: 

"  You  say  this  happened  over  six  years 
ago?  Her  name— what  was  your  sister 
called?" 

"  Salome,"  was  the  answer. 

"  And  you— why,  of  course,  you  are  Hec- 
tor!" 

He  sprang  to  his  feet,  and,  his  host  hav- 
ing also  risen  in  a  vague  astonishment, 
clasped  him  in  a  close  embrace,  after  the 
warm  oriental  fashion. 

"  My  brother!"  he  cried.  "  Know  that 
Salome  lives,  is  well  and  happy,  and  is  my 
own  loved  and  honored  wife!" 

Hector  could  not  believe  his  senses,  and 
for  a  minute  the  demonstrations  of  joy  and 
relief  from  Aulus  Clotius  quite  overpowered 
his  own. 

"  Do  you  not  understand,  Hector?  I  have 
always  told  you  she  was  not  abducted— that 
she  must  have  escaped  to  safety.  Where  is 
your  tongue,  friend— can  you  not  speak?" 

No,  for  a  time  Hector,  strong  man  that  he 


76 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPI. 


was,  had  all  he  could  do  to  battle  with  his 
emotions,  and  it  was  Aulus,  full  of  excite- 
ment and  interest,  who  asked  the  questions 
trembling  on  his  lips. 

When  Hector  learned  all,  and  fully 
realized  that  Salome  owed  rescue,  care,  pro- 
tection, maintenance,  and  a  marriage  far  be- 
yond his  expectations  for  her,  to  the  de- 
spised Christians  alone,  he  was  deeply 
touched,  and  the  softening  influences  of  that 
almost  forgotten  night  in  prison,  when  the 
earthquake  proved  a  friend,  returned  to  him. 
Their  talk  was  long,  rapid,  and  absorbing. 
For  a  time  Hector  even  forgot  the  hideous 
commission  which  soon  must  claim  him.  A 
messenger  from  his  company,  who  came  to 
ask  special  instructions  regarding  the  armor 
to  be  worn,  brought  it  all  back  once  more, 
and  he  was  obliged  to  turn  with  an  awful 
sense  of  wretchedness  and  loathing  from  the 
life  of  purity,  love,  simplicity,  and  faith, 
which  Cleotas  had  been  depicting,  to  the 
depths  of  deceit  and  crime  in  which  he  him- 
self had  so  long  been  submerged. 

In  that  moment  of  tenderness,  of  revived 
affection,  of  intense  longing,  his  life  stood 
out  clear  in  all  its  wickedness,  and  his  in- 
most soul  recoiled.  Yet  to-night  he  must 
compass  a  crime  more  horrible,  more  un- 
natural, more  revolting,  than  any  yet  re- 
quired of  him.  He  must  murder  a  woman,  a 
mother,  at  the  behest  of  a  son  who  owed  to 
her  alone  the  imperial  power  he  was  now 
wielding  against  her.  While  still  tingling 
with  the  delight  of  finding  his  own  sister 
safe  and  well,  he  must  steel  himself  to  make 
way,  by  brutal  means,  with  another  man's 
mother!  The  thought  grew  unbearable,  and 
cold  drops  stood  out  upon  his  brow  as  he 
realized  the  hideousness  of  his  position. 

Of  course,  to  Cleotas  this  emotion  was  ac- 
countable only  as  the  result  of  his  own  sur- 
prising news;  but  Aulus,  knowing  all  the 
facts,  felt  it  must  be  more  than  that,  and 
was  not  astonished  when  the  sudden  appear- 
ance of  the  little  page,  to  announce  another 
messenger  in  waiting,  made  Hector  leap 
from  his  place,  and  exclaim  in  broken  ac- 
cents: 

"Oh,  I  cannot,  cannot  do  it!" 

Aulus  looked  after  him  with  concern, 
Cleotas  with  mild  surprise,  as  he  hurried 
from  the  chamber  to  the  anteroom,  to  confer 
alone  with  the  man. 

Shortly  he  re-entered,  his  face  now  radi- 
ant, his  manner  filled  with  joyful  relief. 
Aulus  stood  up  quickly,  a  question  in  his 
eyes — what  could  have  happened? 


Hector  threw  him  a  look.  "  Something  I 
have  been  dreading  is  averted."  he  said 
aloud  in  partial  explanation,  for  Cleotas 
also  seemed  curious;  then  as  he  passed  close 
by  Aulus  he  managed  to  whisper:  "  She  is 
not  going— the  auguries  were  not  pro- 
pitious!" 

Aulus  understood,  and  his  face  broke  into 
smiles  of  amused  relief. 

"  Another  case  of  a  woman's  changing  her 
mind!"  he  thought  in  his  satirical  fashion. 
"  For  once  it  has  worked  well,  I  must  own." 
Then  aioud,  and  in  a  careless  tone:  "  No 
one  can  tell  how  many  disagreeable  duties 
occur  in  the  life  of  a  centurion— and  not  the 
least  of  these  are  his  long  night  services.  I 
am  glad  for  you,  Hector,  if  you  can  rest  to- 
night." 

Hector  bowed  his  head  comprehendingly, 
and  turned  to  Cleotas. 

"  I  shall  see  you  on  shipboard  to-morrow, 
but  you  must  come  in  the  morning  and  with 
us  break  the  fast.  I  want  you  to  see  my 
wife  and  children,  and  take  to  Salome  our 
love,  and  whatever  gifts  we  can  secure  in 
the  short  time  allowed  us.  And  to-night, 
brother,  when  you  pray  to  your  God  in  the 
name  of  the  Christ,  remember  me,  for  I  am 
beset  with  temptations,  and  life  is  hard  for 
a  soldier  who  is  at  the  beck  of  royal  mas- 
ters!" 

Cleotas  nodded  brightly.  "  I  know  all 
that,  and  I  used  sometimes  to  feel  I  was  as 
much  a  slave  as  any  bondman  of  them  all. 
But  now  it  is  different,  for  Christ  has  made 
me  free.  I  do  what  I  know  is  right,  and  no 
man,  be  he  Caesar  himself,  can  make  me  do 
otherwise." 

"  But  how  dare  you?  Here  the  least  word 
of  rebellion  will  doom  us  to  scourgings  or 
torture." 

"  I  take  the  risk,"  said  Cleotas  calmly. 
"  For  I  do  all  through  Christ  who  gives  me 
strength.  Ah!  if  you  could  talk  with  our 
beloved  Luke,  or  with  our  brave  and  glorious 
Paul,  or  indeed  with  sweet  Elizabeth,  sister 
and  friend  of  our  Salome,  you  would  quickly 
understand.  For,  you  see,  it  is  God  working 
in  us,  and  we  have  only  to  let  him  influence 
us,  and  leave  all  results  in  his  hands.  I 
am  but  a  bluff  official,  not  given  to  elo- 
quence, and  so  can  best  honor  Christ  by 
sturdy  deeds;  but  these  I  have  mentioned 
not  only  act  the  Christian  part,  but  win 
others  with  loving  and  appropriate  words. 
However,  brother,  I  can  pray  for  you,  as 
Jesus  taught  us  how  to  do  that;  and  when  I 
ask  each  day  that  you  be  '  led  not  into  temp- 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPL 


77 


tation,  but  delivered  from  evil,'  my  prayer 
will  be  heard  and  answered.  Only  hold  your- 
self in  readiness  to  be  blessed  and  helped." 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

TREACHERY  IN  THE  HOME. 

TIME  did  not  improve  matters  in  the  pal- 
ace. Nero's  peace  with  his  mother, 
after  the  disgraceful  scene  of  the  ban- 
quet, was  not  long-lived,  and  less  than  four 
months  later,  in  the  spring  of  the  same  year, 
the  poor  woman  fell  a  victim  to  his  hatred 
and  her  own  ambitions. 

Nero  had  managed,  by  alternately  coaxing 
and  harassing,  to  induce  her  to  depart  to 
her  country  seat  at  Antium,  where,  after 
plotting  her  death  by  drowning— which  plan 
proved  a  failure  through  her  quickness  and 
knowledge  of  swimming— she  was  put  to  the 
sword  by  Caesar's  minions;  a  murder  in 
which  Seneca  was  unwillingly  involved,  to 
his  lasting  discredit,  but  from  which  Hector 
escaped  as  participator,  he  being  just  then 
needed  in  Rome  to  help  quell  a  riot  among 
the  people. 

A  little  matter  of  that  kind  was  soon 
crushed  out,  however,  and  Nero,  relieved  of 
his  most  daring  admonisher,  his  mother,  pre- 
pared to  assert  his  will  and  give  rein  to  his 
passions  without  a  thought  of  consequences. 
His  divorce  of  Octavia,  his  pure  and  fair 
young  wife,  and  the  attempt  to  cover  her 
with  public  dishonor,  which  even  he  could 
not  carry  through  against  the  outraged 
sense  of  the  people,  was  the  next  event  in 
the  reign  of  this  tyrant,  and  was  almost  im- 
mediately followed  by  his  mock  marriage  to 
Poppoea,  the  beautiful  but  unscrupulous 
woman  who  proved  the  bane  of  all  who 
loved  her. 

Poppoea  did  not  favor  Aulus  Clotius.  She 
had  an  old  grudge  against  him,  and  was 
quick  to  perceive  Nero's  jealousy  of  the  man. 
This  she  used  every  subtle  art  to  inflame 
into  hatred.  Nero  was  ready  enough  to  re- 
spond to  all  ungenerous  impulses,  but  the 
young  patrician  stood  too  high  to  be  lightly 
thrust  aside  just  now,  when  the  temper  of 
the  multitude  had  been  greatly  tried,  so  the 
Emperor  contented  himself  with  dealing 
him  one  or  two  blows  that  greatly  hurt  his 
pride  and  crippled  his  ambition.  Aulus,  who 
had  been  for  some  time  commander  of  a 
cohort,  fully  expected  to  be  made  general  of 
a  legion  as  soon  as  cii'cumstances  rendered 


the  promotion  possible,  and  great  was  his 
chagrin  to  see  a  far  less  able  man  given  the 
command,  while  he  was  appointed  praetor 
instead,  an  office  civil  rather  than  military, 
which  confined  him  in  Rome,  and  was  to 
him  an  almost  empty  honor;  for,  being  the 
youngest  of  the  praetors,  he  would  have  lit- 
tle voice  even  in  judicial  matters. 

Though  the  pill  was  coated  with  fair 
words  and  the  assurance  that  it  was  given 
only  to  keep  him  a  fixture  at  court.  Aulus 
thoroughly  understood  it,  and  felt  all  its  bit- 
terness, as  he  put  aside  his  helmet  and 
donned  his  robe  of  office,  for  he  knew  that 
from  this  hour  his  fortunes  would  begin  a 
sure  decline.  Besides,  he  loved  his  soldier's 
life  and  loathed  the  squabbles  and  defeats 
which  made  up  the  judiciary  councils  of  the 
day,  and  his  soul  grew  sick  at  thought  of  the 
degradation  there  must  be  in  pretending  to 
rule  under  a  tyrant  who  was  also  devoid  of 
common  sense.  But  his  wife  and  mother 
secretly  rejoiced  that  he  was  thus  spared  to 
them  in  safe  citizenship,  not  appreciating 
the  inner  circumstances  which  made  the 
civil  life  galling  to  a  man  like  himself. 

The  next  rebuff  was  a  curt  order  to  vacate 
his  apartments  in  the  palace,  as  they  were 
required  for  a  friend  of  the  new  empress; 
and  the  family  made  haste  to  repair  to  the 
old  home  near  by. 

Hector  loyally  requested  permission  to  go 
with  them,  and  even  as  Aulus  admonished 
him  for  thus  jeopardizing  his  own  fortunes 
by  clinging  to  an  unpopular  master,  his  eyes 
glittered  with  moisture  while  he  wrung  his 
henchman's  hand,  touched  to  the  heart  by 
his  devotion.  To  repay  him,  Aulus  fitted  up 
some  of  the  best  apartments  in  one  of  the 
quadrangles  about  the  inner  peristyle,  where 
the  fountain  was  always  playing,  the  rooms 
occupied  by  Pamphylia  and  her  women 
being  opposite,  while  the  family  and  state 
apartments  were  nearer  the  street  and 
opened  upon  a  larger  court. 

After  the  visit  of  Cleotas  Hector  could  not 
rest  until  he  had  managed  to  bring  him.  with 
Salome  and  the  three  little  ones,  to  Rome, 
and  Aulus  now  kindly  furthered  the  plan  by 
offering  to  appoint  Cleotas  his  lictor  primus, 
or  head  attendant  and  man  of  affairs,  who 
would  give  orders  to  the  rest  of  the  house- 
hold, assist  in  judicial  proceedings,  and  al- 
ways ride  at  the  shoulder  of  the  praetor,  in 
distinction  from  the  two  common  lictors 
who  ran  In  advance,  to  clear  the  street  and 
command  the  respectful  homage  of  the 
crowd  for  their  master. 


78 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPL 


It  was  a  great  day  for  the  little  household 
at  Philippi  when  Cleotas  received,  by  special 
courier,  letters  from  Aulus  Clotius  and  Hec- 
tor, detailing  this  plan,  and  furthering  it  by 
sending  a  special  guard  to  conduct  them 
hither,  and  Salome  could  scarcely  await  the 
necessary  delays  of  preparation  when  she 
remembered  that  she  was  really  to  see  her 
beloved  Hector  once  more.  She  hurried  to 
tell  Elizabeth  the  news,  and  was  astonished 
to  have  it  received  with  a  burst  of  tears. 

"Why,  Elizabeth— sister— what  is  it?" 
cried  Salome,  in  real  distress.  "  Surely  you 
must  be  glad  to  think  I  shall  be  re-united  to 
one  of  my  dear  brothers  at  last." 

"Oh,  indeed— indeed  I  am!"  cried  Eliza- 
beth, struggling  with  her  tears.  "  Only,  I 
shall  miss  you  so,  Salome!  You  cannot 
realize  how  dear  you  have  become  to  me." 

"  Dearest  friend,"  whispered  Salome, 
kneeling  beside  the  older  woman,  and  draw- 
ing the  weary,  weeping  face  to  her  breast, 
"  I  can,  because  I  know  how  much  you  are 
to  me.  Would  that  you  might  go  with  us! 
If—"  She  checked  herself,  then  went  on 
quickly:  "  We  will  leave  Nadab  in  a  po- 
sition to  assist  you  in  every  way,  and  we 
shall  not  forget  you,  even  if  so  far  off,  Eliza- 
beth—you know  that?" 

"  Yes,  I  know.  You  were  going  to  say,  '  If 
Junius  were  different'?"  looking  up  with  a 
glance  that  she  tried  to  make  composed. 
"  Salome,  God  is  long  in  answering  me,  but 
I  feel  sure  He  will— sure!  But  just  now  I 
am  greatly  cast  down,  for  my  husband  has 
been  away  two  days  and  nights,  and  though 
I  sent  Nadab,  he  could  not  find  him  in  the 
usual  haunts.  I  fear — I  scarcely  know  what." 

"  Elizabeth,"  said  the  younger  woman, 
after  a  thoughtful  silence,  "  you  remember 
what  I  told  you  of  Nero  Csesar's  words  re- 
specting the  Christians  here,  when  the  ill- 
ness of  Tuerna  caused  Cleotas  to  be  sent  to 
Rome  with  the  dispatches?" 

"  Yes,  I  remember.  Caesar  has  never  liked 
our  worship,  and  persecutions  have  been  fre- 
quent; but  so  far  here  in  Philippi  we  have 
been  unmolested." 

"  Yes,  so  far.  But  see  what  the  good  Paul 
has  been  made  to  suffer.  Then,  too,  there 
are  rumors  that  many  have  been  put  to  the 
question  in  Rome.  Cleotas,  who  knows  all 
that  is  taking  place  here,  says  there  are  peo- 
ple acting  as  paid  spies  to  discover  some- 
thing against  us  ever  since  the  last  edict  for- 
bidding our  assembling  together,  or  practic- 
ing our  ceremonies.  He  does  not  know  just 
who  they  all  are,  but—" 


Elizabeth  started  and  turned  a  pallid  face 
upon  her.  The  eyes  of  the  two  met— in  one 
an  agonized  question,  in  the  other  a  sad  and 
reluctant  affirmation.  Elizabeth  clutched 
her  friend's  arm  and  shook  it  in  a  passion  of 
denial. 

"  No,  no,  Salome!  He  could  not— he  would 
not!  He  has  had  money  lately,  but  he  de- 
clares he  earned  it  tending  the  wine  shop 
for  Ha?ram.  Do  not  tell  me — "  She  sank 
back,  half  fainting. 

Salome's  eyes  had  not  withdrawn  their 
assertion;  they  had  only  drooped  with  regret 
and  sorrow,  and  Elizabeth  knew  from  her 
manner  that  the  unspoken  charge  was  but 
too  well  founded,  or  it  would  never  have 
been  brought  up.  But  the  wife  could  not 
talk  of  it,  and  quickly  changed  the  subject 
by  asking  some  question  regarding  Salome's 
departure. 

This  took  place  a  few  weeks  later,  and 
when  Elizabeth— who,  with  Nadab,  had  ac- 
companied them  as  far  as  Neapolis — watched 
the  dingy  lateen-sail  spread  to  the  breeze 
and  slowly  clear  the  harbor,  she  turned 
away  forlorn  and  lonely,  feeling  that  life 
would  be  but  the  more  difficult  in  future. 
But  the  sensation  could  not  secure  a  firm 
hold  upon  her  even  then.  Before  she  and 
her  son  were  half  way  back  to  Philippi  she 
was  again  resting  on  the  promises  of  Christ, 
and  behind  the  impenetrable  armor  of  her 
faith  was  serenely  facing  all  that  life  might 
have  in  store  for  them. 

" '  I  will  never  leave  thee  nor  forsake 
thee,' "  she  whispered  in  her  loneliness;  and 
feeling  for  the  hand  of  Christ,  was  com- 
forted. 

Lydia  was  now  about  the  only  friend  to 
whom  she  could  turn  in  trouble,  and  she  was 
denied  frequent  communication  with  her  be- 
cause Junius  so  disliked  her.  He  had  never 
pardoned  the  severe  reproof  the  strong 
woman  had  given  him  about  the  time  his 
insignia  of  office  was  taken  from  him,  and 
he  sullenly  resented  every  favor  she  be- 
stowed upon  his  needy  household,  secretly 
cursing  her  because  of  her  good  fortune,  in- 
dependence, and  honesty,  and  well  knowing 
how  poor  a  thing  he  must  seem  in  her  ener- 
getic eyes.  So  Lydia  seldom  came  to  the  lit- 
tle home,  except  for  the  religious  services 
often  held  in  its  upper  room,  while  Elizabeth 
rarely  ventured  to  arouse  the  wrath  of  her 
husband  by  going  to  her  friend. 

The  new  fear  that  now  tortured  the  poor 
woman  day  and  night  lurked  in  the  ques- 
tion: "Is  Junius  really  spying  upon  us?" 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


79 


She  wished,  now  it  was  too  late,  that  she 
had  asked  questions,  had  insisted  on  know- 
ing why  Cleotas  suspected  him,  had  indig- 
nantly denied  it  all  to  the  end.  She  looked 
at  Junius  often  as  he  came  and  went,  taci- 
turn, gloomy,  and  forbidding  in  expression, 
and  wished  she  dared  broach  the  subject 
and  have  all  these  tantalizing  doubts  set  at 
rest.  But  she  was  always  dumb  before  him, 
afraid  to  evoke  the  surly  temper  which 
never  lost  its  power  to  wound  her. 

So  passed  some  little  time,  during  which 
Junius  was  away  often  for  days  together, 
while  his  wife,  sick  with  doubts  and  torn 
with  conflicting  duties,  could  live  only  by 
creeping  closer  to  the  heart  of  Jesus  and 
resting  her  burden  upon  Him.  If  there  was 
danger,  she  felt  she  ought  to  warn  the  little 
congregation;  but  how  could  she  tell  them 
she  suspected  her  own  husband  of  being  a 
spy?  In  her  anguish,  one  day,  she  forgot  her 
gospel  of  trust,  and,  growing  terrified  in  hoi- 
human  weakness,  sought  out  Lydia  and,  on 
some  flimsy  pretext,  begged  her  to  have  the 
meetings  held  in  her  home  for  a  time. 

She  hoped  in  this  way  to  avert  the  vague 
danger,  but  she  simply  hastened  what  she 
meant  to  hinder.  The  man  had  means  of 
learning  what  he  wished  to  know,  and  when 
he  found  that  the  Christians  assembled  at 
the  house  of  the  woman  whom  he  hated,  he 
felt  that  he  now  had  everything  in  his  own 
hands.  He  could  ask  no  better  revenge  than 
causing  the  arrest  in  Lydia's  house. 

But  as  time  went  on  and  nothing  hap- 
pened, Elizabeth  began  to  feel  more  secure. 
She  told  herself  that  Salome  had  mistaken 
her  news,  or  Cleotas  had  suspected  without 
cause.  It  was  always  easier  for  her  loving 
heart  to  exonerate  than  to  blame  her  hus- 
band, and  now  in  her  remorse  at  doubting 
him,  she  grew  kinder  and  more  forbearing 
than  ever.  She  had  not  given  up  attending 
the  meetings  when  possible,  though  she 
would  never  go  when  Junius  was  at  home, 
lest  he  should  follow  and  do  mischief.  One 
night,  after  he  had  gone  out  as  usual,  she 
rose  to  wrap  herself  in  her  chlamys,  then 
stopped,  hesitating  and  nervous,  scarcely 
knowing  whether  to  go  or  stay.  On  one 
hand  was  the  command  of  the  Master, 
"  Cease  not  the  assembling  of  yourselves  to- 
gether;" on  the  other,  an  intangible  reluc- 
tance which  had  seized  upon  her  so  strongly 
as  for  the  moment  to  smother  her  serenity 
and  trust. 

While  in  this  state  of  indecision  Junius 
suddenly  stood  before  her.  She  had  not 


heard  a  sound  until  she  looked  up  to  meet 
his  gaze,  that  seemed  to  burn  her  with  its 
intensity.  She  felt  a  glad  relief  at  the  sight 
of  him,  then  quickly  noted  two  tilings— he 
was  not  intoxicated,  he  was  excited.  His 
eyes  were  bright,  sharp,  restless,  his  manner 
alert  and  watchful. 

"  Were  you  going  out?'  he  asked  abruptly, 
glancing  at  the  long  scarf  which  she  had 
thrown  across  the  couch  in  her  moment  of 
indecision. 

She  thought  that  he  suspected  her— meant 
to  follow  her,  perhaps— and  she  answered 
truthfully: 

"  No.  I  had  thought  of  it,  but  was  about 
giving  it  up.  I  am  a  little  tired  and 
nervous." 

He  nodded.  "  I  shall  not  be  back  to-night," 
he  said  in  a  crisp  voice,  utterly  unlike  his 
usual  slow,  thick  utterance.  "  Do  not  sit  up 
for  me.  Bar  the  door  carefully,  and  put 
your  lights  out  early.  Some  of  the  garrison 
are  making  holiday  over  news  from  Home." 

He  left  as  abruptly  as  he  had  entered,  and 
she  thought  sadly: 

"Ah,  I  see!  He  has  been  asked  to  sup 
with  the  officers  and  is  pleased  with  the 
honor.  He  means  to  be  out  with  them  all 
night.  What  will  he  be  to-morrow?" 

She  sighed,  and  threw  herself  down  on  the 
couch.  She  was  lonely,  sad,  heai't-broken. 
Tears  welled  up  into  her  eyes  and  over- 
flowed; sighs  rose  to  her  lips  and  broke  in 
sobs.  She  needed  consolation,  companion- 
ship. She  longed  for  the  little  service 
where,  if  even  two  or  three  wei-e  gathered 
in  His  name,  they  were  assured  of  His  pres- 
ence in  their  midst.  "  Why  should  I  not 
go?"  she  thought  desperately.  "  I  am  not  so 
afraid  of  the  streets  as  of  those  in  my  own 
home.  Junius  will  never  know  nor  care 
where  I  am  while  he  is  feasting  and  drink- 
ing." 

She  rose,  dashed  aside  the  tears,  and 
quickly  wound  herself  in  the  long  chlamys, 
covering  head  and  face  except  the  eyes, 
then,  locking  the  door  behind  her,  slipped 
like  a  shadow  through  the  quiet  streets, 
until  Lydia's  house  was  reached. 

But  Junius  was  not  at  a  banquet.  Through 
a  treacherous  slave  in  Lydia's  employ  he 
knew  all  that  was  necessary  to  his  purpose. 
The  Christians  were  to  have  a  forbidden 
meeting  there,  that  night,  and  the  leader 
of  the  service  was  to  be  the  keeper  of  the 
jail,  whom  Junius  hated  as  he  did  Lydia, 
and  for  much  the  same  reason.  He  would 
have  an  opportunity  to  strike  a  blow  at 


80 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPI. 


them  both  Ly  betraying  them  to  certain 
Roman  officers  who  had  orders  against  this 
"  seditious  sect,"  and  by  betraying  them  he 
could  fully  avenge  his  wounded  self-esteem 
— the  one  really  strong  characteristic  left  to 
him  after  years  of  besotting  indulgence. 
Only,  he  must  be  certain  Elizabeth  was  not 
there.  Low  as  he  had  fallen,  morose  and 
cruel  as  he  often  was,  the  nobler  part  of 
him  still  loved  and  honored  his  wife,  fully 
appreciating  that  she  was  his  best  earthly 
friend.  Elizabeth  must  be  spared. 

So,  before  communicating  with  the  officers, 
he  had  hastened  home  to  assure  himself 
of  his  wife's  safe  presence  there,  and  upon 
leaving  her  had  gone  at  once  to  the  Romans. 

The  immunity  which  Nero  had  previously 
granted  the  Christians  had  been  rather 
through  indolence  than  tolerance.  He  was 
too  busy  with  his  spectacles  and  personal 
competition  in  the  musical  festivals  to  care 
for  so  obscure  a  sect.  But  Poppcea,  whose 
influence  was  now  supreme,  had  her  reasons 
for  favoring  the  Jews,  and  the  influential 
of  these  were  constantly  stirring  up  the  gov- 
ernment to  steraer  measures  against  the 
followers  of  the  Christ  they  had  repudiated. 
They  told  the  most  shocking  stories  of  the 
Christians'  rites  and  practices.  The  break- 
ing of  bread  and  drinking  of  wine  "  in  re- 
membrance "  were  construed  into  an  actual 
feeding  upon  human  flesh  and  blood,  and  in- 
fants were  said  to  be  stolen  for  this  revolt- 
ing ceremony.  Other  dark  practices  were 
imputed  to  them,  and  the  constant  charge  of 
conspiracy  against  the  throne  was  waved  in 
Nero's  face  whenever  he  needed  special  rous- 
ing. A  late  edict  had  forbidden  the  Chris- 
tians every  privilege  of  worship,  and  the  de- 
cree had  been  lately  brought  to  Philippi  by 
Roman  couriers,  while  Roman  officers  were 
instructed  to  enfoix-e  it  to  the  uttermost. 
Hence  what  Junius  looked  upon  as  his  op- 
portunity. 

When,  after  leaving  Elizabeth,  as  he 
thought,  safely  housed  for  the  night,  he  hur- 
ried back  to  the  Castle,  it  was  but  to  meet 
with  unexpected  delays.  The  decurion  who 
led  the  men  detailed  for  this  work  was  not 
at  first  to  be  found,  and  an  hour  slipped  by 
before  the  detachment  was  ready  for  ser- 
vice. But  at  length,  guided  by  this  new 
Judas,  they  started  on  a  brisk  march  down 
into  the  city,  choosing  little-frequented 
streets  to  avoid  stirring  up  a  crowd. 

When  they  were  near  the  pleasant  home 
of  Lydia  they  broke  ranks,  and  after  a  short 
consultation  with  the  treacherous  slave  who 


had  been  won  by  bribes,  they  were  one  by 
one  secretly  admitted  into  the  enclosed  gar- 
den, where  they  could  surround  the  house. 

Here,  as  they  stood  in  the  deep  shadow 
awaiting  furtaer  orders,  the  men  could 
plainly  hear  the  sound  of  soft,  sweet  singing 
from  some  upper  room,  at  which  they  won- 
dered, for  it  scarcely  seemed  a  suitable  ac- 
companiment to  the  hideous  ceremonies  im- 
puted to  the  obscure  sect. 

Elizabeth  had  found  only  few  at  the  meet- 
ing, but  the  moment  she  had  received  their 
gentle  greeting,  "  Peace  be  with  you,"  her 
sore  spirit  felt  lightened  of  its  griefs,  and  she 
was  thankful  she  had  come. 

The  jailer  did  not,  for  some  reason,  appear 
to  take  lead,  and  his  chair  was  occupied  by 
a  young  brother  from  Thessalonica,  who 
had  come  to  visit  the  church  in  Philippi  and 
bring  news  of  the  brethren  further  west. 
He  was  a  fine-looking  man,  ready  of  speech, 
easy  of  manner,  and  with  such  a  genuine 
love  of  the  Christ  that  it  transfigured  all  he 
said  and  did.  As  he  told  them  what  Paul 
had  suffered  through  misrepresentation, 
envy  and  malice,  Elizabeth  felt  that  her 
troubles  were  not  worthy  to  be  mentioned  in 
comparison,  and  meekly  asked  forgiveness 
for  her  depression  when  she  knelt  in  prayer, 
after  the  humble  and  devotional  method 
growing  more  in  favor  daily. 

The  little  group  rose  from  their  knees  con- 
soled and  strengthened,  and  were  in  the 
midst  of  a  low  and  tender  hymn  when  the 
doorkeeper  suddenly  sprang  into  their  midst, 
AviM-eyed  and  white  as  death,  with  the  terri- 
fying words: 

"Fly!    Fly!    The  soldiers  are  upon  us." 

In  an  instant  some  quick-witted  brother 
had  extinguished  the  lights  as  the  hasty 
tramp  of  armed  men  and  the  clashing  of 
their  spears  sounded  in  the  room,  but  in  that 
one  instant  some  had  escaped.  As  the 
guards  poured  into  the  place,  the  torches  of 
the  link-bearers  lighting  the  scene  smokily, 
it  was  seen  to  be  nearly  deserted.  A  few 
were  cowering  behind  benches,  or  fleeing 
madly  into  corners,  but  two  or  three  knelt  in 
the  center,  motionless  and  unresisting. 
Among  these  were  Elizabeth  and  the 
stranger. 

The  would-be  fugitives  were  quickly  se- 
cured, the  worshipers  dragged  to  their  feet, 
and  a  scene  of  horror  followed  as  the  guards 
went  from  room  to  room,  striking  down 
those  who  resisted,  and  dragging  others 
from  their  hiding-places.  But  Lydia  was  not 
among  these.  She,  with  a  very  few  who  fol- 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPI. 


81 


lowed  her,  escaped  by  a  secret  way  of  which 
she  only  had  knowledge,  and  were  over- 
looked by  the  soldiery,  who  supposed  all  had 
been  secured. 

Elizabeth  from  the  instant  of  warning 
had  made  no  sound,  offered  no  resistance. 
She  simply  dropped  to  her  knees,  recom- 
mending herself  to  Christ,  and  calmly 
awaited  what  might  happen.  Presently  she 
felt  herself  being  dragged  across  the  floor, 
and  looked  up  to  say: 

"  I  can  walk,  sir;  do  not  exert  yourself.  I 
am  not  faint." 

The  rough  praetorian,  used  to  scenes  of 
blood,  but  not  expecting  calm  courage  in  a 
woman,  looked  at  her  in  astonishment  and 
relaxed  his  grasp. 

"  Can  you?"  he  asked  almost  gently,  and 
simply  held  her  arm  without  gripping  it. 

She  walked  beside  him  firmly,  but  scarcely 
in  the  full  possession  of  her  senses.  It 
seemed  like  a  dream,  and  she  could  not 
realize  it  all.  But  she  felt  no  fear,  she  had 
no  wish  to  cry  out.  Something  sustained  her 
so  that  what  might  have  been  a  horror,  mak- 
ing every  nerve  to  quiver  with  fright,  be- 
came but  a  weird,  shadow-like  proceeding  in 
which  nerves  were  dumb  and  spirit  steeped 
in  calm.  She  always  afterward  remembered 
the  night  as  one  might  recall  a  trance-like 
dream,  and  she  called  the  "  something " 
which  so  stayed  her  soul  the  presence  of  her 
Lord. 

She  knew  there  had  been  a  hurried  march, 
in  which  chains  clanked  and  arms  gleamed 
in  the  moonlight,  then  an  assembling  of  the 
trembling  little  company  on  a  wharf,  where 
they  sat  huddled  together  in  the  night  chill 
until  they  could  be  consigned  to  some  galley 
not  yet  at  the  landing. 

This  appeared  towards  dawning  and  they 
were  hustled  aboard,  driven  like  sheep  into 
a  corner  of  the  hold,  and  left  there  to  groan 
out  their  fright  and  despair  through  the  rest 
of  that  night  of  agony.  But  Elizabeth  slept 
and  dreamed  of  heaven.  She  thought  Junius 
came  to  her  there  and  begged  her  forgive- 
ness, telling  with  penitent  tears  that  he  had 
God's  gracious  pardon.  So  the  hard  resting- 
place,  the  guards,  the  dangers  of  the  ocean, 
were  forgotten  while  she  wandered  with  her 
restored  lover  and  husband  in  fair  places. 

Once  the  guard  who  had  chosen  her  as  an 
especial  charge  came  and  looked  down  upon 
the  women  prisoners— there  were  but  two— 
to  find  one  in  the  attitude  of  prayer,  and  the 
other  sleeping  like  a  child  in  its  mother's 
arms. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 
A  DESOLATE  HEARTH. 

JUNIUS  did  not  appear  with  the  sol- 
diers. Having  led  them  to  the  house  of 
Lydia,  his  errand  was  accomplished  and 
he  lingered  only  through  curiosity,  well  hid- 
den in  the  shadow  of  the  street  wall,  to  wit- 
ness the  result.  He  heard  the  noise  of  the 
quickly-ended  struggle  above,  and  soon,  with 
a  chuckle  of  inner  satisfaction,  saw  the  sol- 
diers reappear  with  at  least  a  half-dozen 
prisoners  huddled  in  their  midst.  Two  of 
these  were  women,  but  in  the  uncertain  light 
it  was  difficult  to  get  a  clear  idea  of  their 
veiled  figures.  One,  however,  who  walked 
erect  and  with  firmness  beside  the  half- 
fainting  figure  of  the  other,  he  felt  sure  was 
the  proud  Lydia,  and  a  pang  that  was 
mingled  satisfaction  and  regret  flashed 
through  him.  In  that  moment  of  her  down- 
fall insistent  memory  recalled  a  thousand 
kindly  deeds  from  her  to  his  household  and 
shamed  him  for  this  dastardly  requital. 

A  groan  from  one  of  the  prisoners  smote 
his  ears  as  the  company  passed  by  his  re- 
treat, and  surprised  him  into  a  shiver  of  dis- 
may for  the  awful  consequences  of  this 
night's  work.  Junius  was  quite  himself  for 
the  first  time  in  months,  and  though  he  had 
kept  sober  for  a  distinct  purpose,  and  that 
an  evil  one,  the  divine  soul  within  him,  freed 
for  the  moment,  showed  it  still  had  power 
to  make  itself  heard.  Just  now  its  noiseless 
reproaches  made  him  miserably  uncomfort- 
able, and  he  was  glad  to  slink  away  in  the 
darkness  and  hasten  to  his  home.  As  he 
passed  swiftly  through  the  deserted  streets, 
singularly  quiet  after  the  brief  commotion 
which  had  driven  the  guilty  and  the  timid— 
a  large  share  of  Philippi's  population,  in 
fact— to  shelter,  he  felt  glad  he  had  Eliza- 
beth to  go  to. 

"  She  always  calms  and  comforts  me,"  he 
thought.  "  She  is  a  woman  of  rare  sweet- 
ness, I  must  own,  and  I  have  often  made  life 
a  burden  to  her,  doubtless.  If  she  were  not 
such  a  fanatic  she  would  be  almost  perfect." 

Yet  truth  compelled  him  to  own  that  her 
faith  in  the  teachings  of  Jesus  had  but  deep- 
ened and  strengthened  all  her  better  quali- 
ties, only— here  was  his  grievance— it  gave 
her  some  secret  sustaining  power  to  endure 
his  own  cruelties  against  her.  A  wife  had 
no  business  with  help  outside  her  own  hus- 
band! He  told  himself  it  made  her  less  sub- 
missive. 


82 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPI. 


Yet  inwardly  he  resolved  to  be  kinder  to 
her  than  he  had  been.  He  would  take  some 
of  this  ill-gotten  money  and  buy  her  a  new 
tunic — she  needed  it  sadly,  poor  thing!— and 
the  next  time  her  large,  soft  eyes  reproached 
him  he  would  turn  away  and  say  nothing, 
rather  than  lift  hand  or  voice  against  her. 

He  soon  reached  his  humble  dwelling,  and 
was  not  surprised  to  find  it  dark  and  se- 
curely locked.  Elizabeth  had  evidently 
obeyed  his  instructions  to  the  letter.  He  had 
means  of  admitting  himself,  and  soon  had 
lighted  a  lamp  and  proceeded  to  the  little 
chamber,  which  to  his  astonishment  he 
found  empty.  He  looked  around  dazedly. 
Elizabeth  gone?  Oh,  no!  She  had  simply 
carried  her  sleeping-mat  to  the  roof  this  mild 
night.  He  would  just  take  a  look  to  make 
sure. 

Shading  the  lamp  with  his  hand,  he 
passed  up  the  outer  stairway  and  peered 
across  the  flat  space  before  him.  Yes,  there 
she  lay.  He  could  see  the  dark  figure's  out- 
line against  the  white  parapet.  How  re- 
lieved he  felt!  He  thought  he  would  satisfy 
himself,  however,  by  a  closer  look  at  her.  It 
would  steady  his  nerves,  which  were  some- 
what shaken  by  the  evening's  occurrences. 
So  he  crept  softly  over  the  flooring  of  baked 
clay,  and  bent  above — not  Elizabeth,  but 
Nadab!  He  woke  the  youth  quickly,  with  a 
curse,  and  before  the  latter's  sleep-laden 
eyes  were  fairly  open,  shrieked  into  his  ear, 
"  Where  is  your  mother?"  for  an  awful  ter- 
ror was  beginning  to  grip  his  heart-strings. 

"  Mother?"  asked  Nadab  confusedly. 
"  Has  she  not  returned  from  the  meeting?" 

"  Meeting?"  hissed  the  terrified  man  in  re- 
turn. "  Did  she  go?  Are  you  certain?  How 
do  you  know?" 

Nadab,  fully  aroused  now,  looked  sharply 
at  his  father  to  satisfy  himself  that  this 
was  not  the  frenzy  of  a  drunken  man,  then 
answered  calmly: 

"Well,  and  if  she  did?  She  will  soon  be 
back  now — or  shall  I  go  and  fetch  her?  I 
presume,  however,  there  will  be  women  com- 
ing this  way:  there  always  are." 

"  Peace!"  shrieked  the  tortured  man. 
"  Tell  me  if  you  are  sure  she  went  to  that 
meeting." 

"  No,"  said  Nadab  slowly,  gazing  with 
astonishment  at  the  excited  man.  "  No,  I 
am  not  sure,  because  I  did  not  see  her  go. 
But  she  never  goes  anywhere  except  to  the 
meetings  or  to  Lydia's." 

The  last  words  but  added  intensity  to  the 
husband's  forebodings.  To  Lydia's!  To 


the  house  where  he  had  led  the  soldiers, 
making  merry  in  stifled  whispers  over  the 
unconsciousness  of  their  prey!  To  Lydia's! 
He  remembered  the  two  female  figures  in 
the  grasp  of  the  rude  soldiery — one  half- 
fainting,  one  proudly  erect— and  was  seized 
with  such  an  agony  as  only  a  strong  man 
can  feel  when  for  the  first  time  he  sees  him- 
self guilty  of  some  horrible  crime. 

Once,  the  other  day,  when  he  had  asked 
the  decurion  from  Rome  the  question, 
"  And  why  are  Christians  wanted  at  the 
capital  just  now?"  the  officer  had  answered 
with  a  laugh:  "There  is  a  fresh  load  of 
wild  beasts  from  the  jungles,  and  we  must 
find  food  for  them." 

The  laughing  words  came  back  now  to 
burn  themselves  into  his  consciousness.  As 
in  a  flash  of  light  he  saw  his  Elizabeth,  fair- 
est and  purest  of  women,  standing  for  one 
uncertain  minute  in  the  broad  arena  of  the 
amphitheatre,  surrounded  by  fierce,  starving 
beasts  let  loose  from  their  dens  upon  her, 
and  it  seemed  as  if  all  the  neglect  and  un- 
kindness  of  a  lifetime  had  become  animate 
to  torture  him  through  her  sufferings. 

"  Hurry,  Nadab!"  he  called  hoarsely. 
"  Run  to  Lydia's — I  cannot  go.  Rouse  the 
slaves— find  Eumene!  Make  sure— make 
sure  whether  she  was  there,  or  not.  Do  you 
hear,  boy?" 

"  Was  there?  You  mean  is  there,  of  course. 
If  she  had  left,  she  would  be  here  by  now. 
And  I  would  not  be  anxious,  father.  Lydia 
always  sees  that  she  has  company  home, 
even  if  she  has  to  send  one  of  the  slaves 
with  her." 

"  Go!  go!— hurry!"  was  all  the  wretched 
man  could  say;  and  Nadab  felt  that  for  some 
reason  this  frenzy  of  his  meant  more  than 
any  drunken  ravings  he  had  ever  known. 

While  the  youth  was  away  Junius  paced 
to  and  fro  before  the  house,  watching  every 
shadow,  hearing  every  flutter  of  a  leaf,  in  the 
desperate  hope  that  Elizabeth  might  appear. 
Oh!  to  see  her  come  around  that  corner,  her 
graceful  figure  stepping  lightly,  her  modest 
face  veiled  in  white!  His  Elizabeth! — fairc-r 
than  the  day  he  married  her.  His  wife! 
who  was  to  him  the  embodiment  of  all  good, 
all  hope,  all  faith  in  a  better  life  to  come! 

He  called  distractedly  upon  the  gods  he 
knew;  he  invoked  the  Lares  and  Penates  of 
his  desolated  hearth;  he  cried  to  the  stars 
shining  coldly  in  the  midnight  darkness,  and 
then— because  He  was  the  God  Elizabeth 
loved  and  worshiped— he  called  upon  the 
Christ  to  help,  to  forgive,  to  bring  her  back 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


83 


to  the  husband  who,  all  too  late,  was  learn- 
ing her  true  worth. 

He  grew  a  trifle  calmer  at  length,  and 
when  Nadab  reappeared  with  a  well- 
wrapped  female  figure  beside  him,  the  great- 
ness of  his  relief  made  him  almost  faint. 

"  Elizabeth!"  he  sobbed,  holding  out  his 
arms.  "  My  wife!" 

It  was  Lydia  who  answered.  Sweeping 
aside  her  veil,  she  turned  her  blazing  eyes 
upon  him. 

"  Vile,  unhappy  man!"  she  cried  in  an  out- 
raged voice.  "  You  sought  to  betray  us,  and 
have  bereft  yourself!  Elizabeth  was  near 
the  outer  door  and  one  of  the  first,  doubtless, 
to  be  seized.  I  escaped  at  the  earliest  word 
of  alarm,  calling  upon  her  to  follow,  but  she 
either  did  not  hear,  or  had  no  time  to  obey. 
They  took  her  with  them." 

Junius  staggered  back  against  his  desolate 
house-wall,  and  a  deep  groan  burst  from  his 
lips.  Lydia  was  safe!  Elizabeth  Avas  taken! 
And  he,  the  traitor,  the  spy,  was  left  to  bear 
his  success  as  best  he  could!  They  passed 
indoors.  Poor  Nadab,  hardly  yet  compre- 
hending, followed  them,  weeping  silently. 

A  few  words  convinced  Junius  that  his 
wife  was  indeed  on  her  way  to  Rome  to  con- 
front all  sorts  of  unknown  horrors,  and  the 
man  in  him  woke  from  sloth  and  selfishness 
to  deep  repentance  and  earnest  action. 

"  Lydia,"  he  said  brokenly,  "  your  re- 
proaches are  just.  I,  and  I  alone,  am  to 
blame!  I  believed  my  wife  was  safe,  and 
in  betraying  others  to  ruin  I  have  been  over- 
whelmed myself." 

Lydia,  seeing  his  misery,  was  softened. 
"  You  have  not  the  power  to  ruin  any  of  us, 
Junius.  That  rests  with  God,  and  He  will 
not  let  your  treachery  cause  us  harm  that  is 
not  in  His  perfect  plan  for  our  future  better- 
ment. Your  sin  is  just  as  great,  for  it  was 
willful  and  malicious;  but,  thank  God,  Eliza- 
beth is  in  the  care  of  One  more  tender  and 
trustworthy  than  yourself.  But  she  is  doubt- 
less lost  to  you  forever." 

"  No,  no!"  The  cry  was  sharp  with 
anguish.  "  I  shall  follow  her  to  Rome.  I 
shall  save  her,  if  possible;  and  if  not,  I  will 
at  least  die  with  her.  Nadab,  will  you  come 
with  your  father,  or  stay  behind?" 

"  I  will  go  to  my  mother,"  said  the  lad; 
and  Lydia,  bursting  into  tears,  besought 
Heaven's  blessing  on  their  enterprise. 

Their  preparations  took  but  a  few  hours. 
They  had  little  money  and  must  make  the 
long  journey  by  land,  mostly  on  foot.  It 
was  a  terrible  undertaking,  but  they  did 


not  stop  to  think  of  difficulties  now— only  of 
results. 

Lydia,  convulsed  with  weeping  over  the 
sad  fate  of  her  friend,  drew  Nadab  to  one 
side  and  pressed  her  purse  into  his  hand. 

"  Take  it,"  she  whispered,  "  and  make  it 
shorten  the  way  whenever  possible.  But 
husband  it  well,  lest  it  be  spent  unworthily." 

Nadab  bowed  his  head,  and  thought, 
"  But  how  shall  I  ever  keep  father  from 
spending  it  for  strong  wines  during  all  that 
long  journey?"  For  neither  yet  understood 
that  Elizabeth's  prayer  was  answered  and 
her  burden  rolled  away.  From  that  night 
on,  Junius  never  touched  the  red  liquor 
again. 

Meanwhile,  in  Thessalonica,  Agistha  sat 
awaiting  the  return  of  Herklas  from  his 
journey  to  Philippi  and  wondered  that  he 
did  not  come,  for  he  was  one  of  those  honest 
and  comfortable  people  who  never  promise 
what  they  cannot  in  all  human  probability 
perform,  and  he  had  said  he  would  be  back 
three  days  ago. 

Feeling  restless  and  uneasy,  she  thought 
she  would  take  her  baby  boy,  Gains,  and  go 
to  the  "  great  house,"  as  they  called  the  villa 
of  ^Enone,  for  a  little  visit  with  its  mistress. 

She  found  the  latter  in  her  private  room 
surrounded  by  her  women,  to  whom  she  was 
giving  rapid  orders,  but  she  stopped  to  wel- 
come Agistha,  fondle  the  baby,  and  exclaim 
excitedly: 

"  What  do  you  think,  child?  Gaius  is  called 
to  Rome  for  an  indefinite  time,  and  he  is  to 
take  Ian  and  myself  with  him.  We  are  to 
start  in  a  day  or  two,  and  I  am  very  busy 
giving  orders  for  the  conduct  of  my  house- 
hold while  I  am  gone,  and  making  prepara- 
tions for  the  journey.  But  sit  down,  Agistha, 
and  I  will  dismiss  the  slaves  for  a  while.— 
Go!  You  have  your  orders  for  the  present 
and  can  come  for  more  later.— There!  Now 
we  can  have  a  good  rest  and  visit.  But  how 
forlorn  you  look,  my  dear!  Have  you  been 
crying?  What  is  troubling  you?" 

Agistha  broke  down  at  this,  and  sobbed 
out: 

"  Herklas  has  not  come  back." 

"Is  that  all?  Foolish  child!  What  is 
there  to  worry  over?  He  has  simply  been 
detained." 

"  But  he  Is  three  days  behind  time.  And 
he  promised,  Lady  ^Enone.  You  know 
Herklas  always  keeps  his  word." 

"  Yes,  he  is  careful  about  it;  but  even  the 
best  of  men  fail  sometimes.  He  has  found 


84 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPI. 


old  friends  who  are  making  nien-y  over  him, 
be  assured.  Indeed,  I  never  expect  Gaius 
till  I  see  him— ah,  here  he  is  now!" 

The  master  entered,  starting  a  little  as  he 
noticed  Agistha;  then,  seeing  the  traces  of 
tears,  he  said  quickly:  "  You  have  heard, 
then?" 

"  Heard— what?"  she  asked,  looking  up  at 
him  with  anxious  eyes. 

Gaius  turned  to  his  wife  perplexedly.  "  I 
was  about  to  ask  you  to  go  to  her.  There  is 
news  from  Philippi— I  just  heard  it  from 
some  traders  on  their  way  west.  Does 
Agistha  know?" 

"No,  no!  What  is  it?  She  is  worried  be- 
cause Herklas  does  not  return." 

Both  the  women  had  risen,  and  Agistha 
stood  holding  her  baby  closely,  quite  pallid 
•with  alarm. 

"  I  hope  the  report  is  exaggerated,"  he  said 
kindly,  "  but  they  say  that  while  he  was  ad- 
dressing a  secret  meeting  they  were  raided 
by  soldiers,  and  a  part  of  them  carried  off 
to  Rome." 

"And  Herklas— did  he  escape?"  shrieked 
Agistha. 

Gaius  sadly  shook  his  head.  "They  say 
he  was  certainly  taken.  But  do  not  feel  that 
all  is  lost,  Agistha.  I  am  going  to  start  for 
Rome  in  a  day  or  two,  and  I  have  some  in- 
fluence there.  Be  assured  I  shall  use  all  I 
have  to  procure  his  release." 

Agistha  dropped  to  her  knees  and  held  up 
her  arms— the  baby  still  in  them — crying: 

"  Oh,  master!  dear,  kind  Gaius,  take  us 
with  you!  Take  your  little  namesake  and 
his  mother.  Oh,  beg  for  us,  dear  mistress! 
Take  me  as  your  slave — anything — only  let 
me  go  to  my  husband!" 

"  There!  there!  Of  course  you  shall  go. 
Say  that  she  can,  Gaius.  I  will  make  her 
my  first  lady-in-waiting,  and  Chloe  can  look 
after  little  Gaius  and  Ian  together.  Say  yes, 
husband!"  pleaded  ^none,  her  kind  heart 
wrung  with  grief  for  her  favorite. 

"  Well,  it  shall  be  as  you  wish.  I  did  not 
intend — however,  it  is  no  more  than  Herklas 
would  do  for  me.  Yes,  yes,  she  and  the  babe 
shall  go." 

"  My  blessed  master!" 

"  Run,  Agistha,  and  put  everything  in 
order  at  your  home.  Ah,  Gaius,  you  never 
fail  me!  There,  weep  no  more,  little  one;  we 
will  surely  save  your  husband." 

"  Be  ready  by  Thursday,  for  I  cannot  de- 
lay another  hour.  But  what  if  this  news 
should  prove  to  be  a  mistake?"  said  Gaius. 

"Then  he  will  certainly  be  here  by  that 


time  to  speak  for  himself.  If  he  is  not,  I 
will  be  ready  for  the  first  boat." 

Agistha  was  as  good  as  her  word.  When 
morning  was  still  in  her  first  blush,  next 
market-day,  the  Lady  ^Enone's  train  was 
awaiting  embarkation  upon  a  special  galley 
finely  fitted  up,  and  flying  the  imperial 
colors.  Above  it  a  gay  awning  was  spread, 
and  cushions  were  placed  beneath  for  the 
greater  comfort  of  the  ladies. 

But  Agistha  scarcely  noticed  these  details. 
It  would  have  been  all  the  same  had  this 
been  a  dingy  merchantman  from  Alexan- 
dria, the  floors  swimming  in  bilge-water, 
and  the  sails  torn  and  soiled  with  hard 
usage.  Pale  and  still,  she  crossed  the  gang- 
plank with  her  baby,  but  one  idea  in  her 
mind — she  was  going  to  her  husband. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 
IN  PROUD  ROME. 

IT  was  a  long  sail  from  Neapolis  to  Rome, 
and  one  embarking  late  in  the  season  was 
never  sure  of  not  being  forced  to  winter 
somewhere  on  the  way.  But  Cleotas  and 
Salome  with  their  little  family  had  sailed 
in  early  springtime  and  been  favored  with 
fair  winds  throughout  the  voyage,  thus  they 
made  a  quick  and  pleasant  passage.  Hec- 
tor and  his  wife  Celeste,  with  their  little 
Aulus  and  Salome,  were  waiting  impatiently 
to  greet  the  travelers,  who  landed  at  one  of 
the  lower  wharves  on  the  Tiber,  and  were 
thence  transported  by  a  barge  to  the  city 
landing. 

Upon  this  barge,  gay  with  streamers  and 
music,  were  the  Roman  family,  and  Hector 
had  spared  no  expense  or  trouble  to  make 
this  welcome  to  his  long-lost  sister  and  her 
family  a  truly  royal  one. 

It  was  a  glad  hour.  The  meeting  between 
Hector  and  Salome  was  full  of  deep  emotion 
for  both.  Looking  upon  her  noble,  matronly 
countenance,  he  felt  that  she  had  grown 
older  in  wisdom  and  self-control,  as  well  as 
in  years,  and  thought  that  even  as  a  maiden 
she  had  never  been  more  attractive.  He 
liked  her  gentle  firmness  with  her  children, 
and  was  pleased  at  the  deference  and  re- 
spect her  manly  husband  paid  her. 

Hector  had  found  a  dwelling  for  them  in 
the  north-eastern  suburb,  near  the  gardens 
of  Sallust;  the  encampment  of  the  Praetorian 
guards,  whence  his  duties  took  him  daily, 
being  not  far  beyond.  Before  he  would  let 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPI. 


85 


them  occupy  It,  however,  he  insisted  they 
should  all  visit  him  in  his  own  home,  that 
the  families  might  make  acquaintance  at 
last. 

The  two  ladies  soon  became  warmly  at- 
tached, and  Hector  daily  grew  more  appreci- 
ative of  the  sturdy  virtues  which  kept  his 
brother-in-law  so  evenly  balanced,  and  so 
unafraid.  As  he  went  from  station  to 
station,  enforcing  that  discipline  which 
made  the  armies  of  Rome  invincible,  Hector 
felt  that  there  was  a  better  kind  of  disci- 
pline, not  enforced,  but  voluntary,  and  full 
of  joy  inexpressible— the  discipline  of  a  soul 
brought  into  harmony  with  the  Higher  Will; 
and  as  he  studied  this  Christian  brother, 
brave  as  he  had  never  been,  he  first  mar- 
veled, then  loved,  then  longed  to  imitate. 
But  alas!  Self-interest  and  iron  law,  under 
the  most  lawless  of  sovereigns,  seemed  to 
bind  him  in  chains  too  strong  for  breaking. 
Like  Agrippa,  he  was  "almost  persuaded"; 
but  also  like  him,  the  glitter  of  worldly  rank 
outshone  the  Heavenly  beams. 

In  a  few  weeks  the  new-comers  were  quite 
at  home  in  the  Imperial  City,  and  Salome 
never  tired  of  going  about  in  her  litter  to 
admire  the  high  and  massive  buildings  with 
their  wilderness  of  columns,  the  narrow 
paved  streets  teeming  with  their  motley 
crowds,  the  shops  beneath  the  great  houses 
divided  into  living  apartments  above,  which 
were  gay  with  every  salable  luxury,  the  tem- 
ples beautiful  as  artists  could  fashion- 
though  to  her  thought  degraded  to  base 
uses — and  the  blooming  gardens  of  the  pa- 
tricians, both  public  and  private. 

Everywhere  she  observed  statues  dedi- 
cated to  different  deities,  for  if  pagan  wor- 
ship was  strong  in  Philippi,  it  was  all-in-all 
here.  These  statues,  placed  in  the  inter- 
sections of  the  streets,  outlining  forums, 
baths,  theatres,  and  halls  of  justice,  decorat- 
ing every  shop  and  booth,  standing  guard 
over  every  private  doorway,  were  of  all  sub- 
stances, from  the  precious  metals  and  the 
finest  Italian  marbles  down  to  hideous  little 
carved  effigies,  rudely  fashioned  from  n 
block  of  wood.  Every  shop  was  dedicated 
to  some  deity,  every  trade  made  oblations  to 
some  patron  of  the  skies;  even  the  children's 
toys  were  consecrated  to  Bacchus,  the  god  of 
fun  and  revelry.  Nothing,  however  trivial, 
took  place  without  consultation  with  the 
Augurs,  who  calculated  their  prophecies 
from  the  flight  of  birds,  or  the  direction  of 
the  lightnings  in  a  storm;  or  appealing  to 
Hcrespices,  who  gravely  inspected  the  en- 


trails of  fowl  and  beast  for  their  decisions, 
and  gave  them  with  a  solemn  voice,  al- 
though, as  Cato  has  told  us,  "  they  could  not 
help  laughing  when  they  met  in  the  streets  " 
over  the  credulity  of  the  masses  who  heaped 
their  coffers  with  silver. 

Salome  noted,  too,  in  her  thoughtful  man- 
ner, the  intense  contrasts  in  life  here  dis- 
played. On  one  hand  was  a  poverty  that 
bereft  life  of  all  freedom,  beauty,  almost  of 
hope;  on  the  other,  a  luxury  that  seemed 
steeped  in  wildest  extravagance.  At  the 
least  movement  the  higher  patrician  glit- 
tered with  splendor.  His  clothing  was  a 
mass  of  gems.  His  lectica,  or  chariot,  shone 
with  gold  and  silver-work,  and  was  up- 
holstered in  the  richest  stuffs  from  Damas- 
cus. Lictors  ran  before  him  with  their 
fasces  (a  bundle  of  rods  with  an  axe  in  the 
center),  clearing  a  passage  through  the 
crowded  streets,  which  were  only  the  width 
of  a  village  lane;  and,  not  content  with  this, 
the  most  showy  fashionables  trailed  about 
with  a  retinue  of  slaves,  until  the  nuisance 
was  getting  almost  unbearable,  for  the  con- 
fined roadways  were  often  blocked  by  thig 
foolish  display. 

The  short  winter  was  blossoming  into 
spring  when,  one  day,  Cleotas  came  in 
hastily  and  sought  his  wife  in  her  distaff- 
room.  His  face  was  quite  pale  with  some 
unusual  emotion,  and  he  looked  at  her 
keenly  an  instant,  where  she  sat  calmly  at 
her  embroidery,  before  he  said  in  a  con- 
trolled voice: 

"  Salome,  I  have  strange  news  for  you." 

She  half  rose,  startled  at  his  manner. 
"  What  is  it,  Cleotas?  Has  anything  hap- 
pened to  Hector— to  his  family?" 

"  No,  it  is  about  Juuius.  Junius  is  in 
Rome." 

"  In  Rome— here?  And  without  Eliza- 
beth? Surely  he  has  not  forsaken  her!" 

"  No,  she— sit  down,  dear.  It  is  a  Ion;; 
story— she  is  somewhere  here,  or  on  the 
way." 

"  Here — or  at  sea?  How  strange  you  are, 
my  husband!  Tell  me  all  about  it." 

"  I  will,  Salome,  but  it  is  a  sad  story. 
Elizabeth  was  arrested  with  some  other 
Christians,  and  the  soldiers  started  with 
them  for  Rome — at  least  they  are  known  to 
have  sailed  from  Neapolis  not  three  months 
after  we  left  there,  but — ' 

"  And  have  not  reached  here  yet?  Oh, 
they  are  lost  at  sea!" 

"  No,   Junius  and   Nadab  think   they   are 


86 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPI. 


not,  or  we  would  have  had  news  of  it  in 
some  way.  But  they  may  have  been  winter- 
ing somewhere,  driven  by  storms  to  seek 
shelter  in  a  foreign  port." 

"So  Nadab  is  here  also?  Poor  boy!  He 
must  be  heart-broken.  But  Junius— has 
Junius  done  all  this  for  her?" 

"  Yes,  and  evidently  is  a  changed  man, 
Salome.  He  refuses  to  touch  wine,  though 
greatly  worn  with  his  long  journey,  is 
thoughtful  and  kind  for  Nadab,  and—" 

"  But  where  are  they?  Why  did  you  not 
bring  them  here  at  once,  Cleotas?"  springing 
to  her  feet  with  hospitable  solicitude. 
"  Surely  you  would  not  let  them  lodge  else- 
where?" 

"  No;  they  are  here,  my  dear.  I  left  them 
to  make  their  ablutions  and  replace  their 
soiled  garments  before  seeing  you— for  there 
is  something  more,  my  wife.  You  say  Nadab 
must  be  broken-hearted.  True,  he  is  very 
sorrowful,  but  youth  and  hope  brace  him  to 
bear  this  blow.  It  is  Junius  who  is  broken 
in  spirit." 

"Junius?  That  surly,  neglectful,  cruel 
man!  It  does  not  seem  possible." 

"  Yes,  it  is,  because  remorse  is  what  tears 
the  heart-strings  beyond  repair,  my  Salome, 
and  Junius  is  remorseful  to  self-abasement 
because — he  is  to  blame." 

"To  blame?  For  Elizabeth's  arrest?  Oh, 
the  wretch!  the  unnatural  monster!  the — " 

"Peace,  peace,  child!  Not  so  fast!  Let 
me  tell  you  all;"  and  amid  Salome's  sobs 
and  broken  exclamations,  Cleotas  made  her 
understand  just  how  the  sad  event  had  hap- 
pened. 

At  first  she  felt  as  if  she  could  never  for- 
give Junius,  never  even  see  him,  but  Cleotas 
reminded  her  gravely: 

"  Salome,  we  pray  to  be  forgiven  as  we 
forgive.  If  God  should  not  even  overlook 
our  mistakes,  in  what  evil  case  we  would 
be!" 

Weeping  and  torn  with  conflicting  emo- 
tions, she  threw  herself  into  his  arms. 

"Oh,  my  husband!  You  are  so  kind,  so 
good,  so  strong!  Show  me  the  right,  that  I 
may  pursue  it." 

"  There  is  only  one  way,  and  that  is  the 
Christ's,  my  child.  We  must  help  and  com- 
fort Junius  and  Nadab,  and  with  them 
watch  and  wait  for  Elizabeth,  to  give  her 
such  succor  as  will  be  possible.  There  is,  of 
course,  the  faint  chance  that  she  may  be 
even  now  languishing  in  some  dungeon  here 
in  Rome,  though  so  far  diligent  inquiry  has 
failed  to  locate  her.  But  when  you  see 


Junius  and  comprehend  the  entire  chau~e  in 
him,  you  will  feel  differently." 

Cleotas  had  spoken  truly.  One  glance  into 
the  haggard  face  and  deeply  sorrowful  eyes 
of  the  bereft  husband  filled  Salome's  warm 
heart  with  sudden  pity.  Its  expression  was 
so  pathetically  humble,  despairing,  patient, 
that  it  would  have  touched  a  stone,  and 
Salome  was  far  enough  from  such  hardness. 

He  and  the  Thracian  girl  had  never  liked 
each  other,  but  now  the  desolate  man  turned 
to  her  as  the  one  who  had  been  nearest  and 
dearest  to  his  wife,  while  Salome,  stirred  to 
deepest  sympathy,  soon  grew  tender  to  him 
in  their  common  sorrow,  and  felt  a  daugh- 
terly affection  developing  for  this  Roman 
whom  she  had  once  despised. 

For  a  few  days  Nadab's  young  grief  was 
almost  forgotten  in  the  novelty  and  bewil- 
derment of  his  surroundings.  He  roamed 
the  streets  all  day,  looking,  looking,  till  his 
eyes  ached,  and  felt  each  night  that  he  had 
only  just  begun  to  realize  the  extent, 
grandeur,  and  singularities  of  this  capital 
city  of  the  whole  world. 

But  Junius,  if  he  noticed,  did  not  heed. 
Each  morning  he  took  his  long  walk  across 
the  city  to  the  wharves,  and  there  spent  his 
day  between  the  Emporium,  or  grain  pier, 
and  the  Marmorata,  a  special  dock  for  land- 
ing stone  and  marble,  not  knowing  just 
where  or  when  he  might  see  some  storm- 
tossed  barque  come  sailing  in,  bringing  the 
most  precious  freight  this  world  could  give 
him— his  Elizabeth. 

Sometimes,  seated  upon  a  post,  he  looked 
out  upon  the  waters  of  the  Tiber,  here 
broadened  into  a  harbor-like  roadway  from 
the  ocean,  and  watched  with  his  longing 
eyes  the  strange  craft  from  every  port  along 
the  Mediterranean's  shores.  He  saw  the  gov- 
ernment galleys  equipped  for  warfare,  the 
fishermen's  junks  starting  out  for  their 
season's  work,  the  patrician  pleasure-barges, 
gay  with  streamers  and  silken  awnings,  and 
the  low,  black,  square-hulled  convict  ships. 

But  the  ship  he  sought — the  one  which 
would  bring  news  of  the  wife  he  had  be- 
trayed—did not  come,  and  sometimes,  look- 
ing into  the  soft  blue  of  the  dancing  waves, 
he  wondered  if  it  would  not  be  better  if 
both  were  sleeping  far  beneath  them  to- 
gether? For  oh!  what  might  not  await  her 
in  Rome?  Again  he  would  be  seized  with 
the  conviction  that  she  was  already  there. 
lodged  in  some  forgotten  dungeon,  and  he 
would  wander  distraught  from  forum  to 
castle,  asking  wild  questions,  and  growing 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


87 


momentarily  more  unmanageable.  At  these 
times  it  needed  all  the  persuasions  and 
assurances  of  both  Cleotas  and  Hector  (the 
latter  having  been  enlisted  in  his  cause)  to 
quiet  him.  But  these  days  were  few.  Gen- 
erally he  was  patient  to  dumbness,  and  only 
his  gaunt,  hungry  eyes  betokened  the  agony 
gnawing  at  his  heart. 

One  morning  as  he  entered  the  shipping 
office  where  he  made  his  daily  inquiries, 
he  saw  a  man  he  had  often  noticed  there 
before,  a  patrician  of  high  rank,  undoubt- 
edly, whose  frank  face  and  agreeable  man- 
ner attracted  him.  This  day  they  advanced 
at  the  same  moment,  and  he  courteously 
made  way  for  Junius,  giving  him  a  sympa- 
thizing glance  as  he  did  so.  But  Junius  had 
scarcely  finished  his  queries  when  the  man 
stepped  forth  quickly,  to  say: 

"Just  what  I  was  about  to  ask!    Are  you 

interested  in  these  people,  too,  my  friend?" 

Junius  bowed  his  head.    "  My  wife  is  on 

board,  sire,"  he  answered,  with  the  respect 

befitting  the  other's  rank. 

"Indeed?"      The   patrician   seemed   inter- 
ested.   "  I  see  you  wear  the  dress  of  Mace- 
donia, my  native  country;  may  I  ask  what 
city  you  are  from?" 
"  From  Philippi,  sire." 
"Ah!      And  I  am  of  Thessalonica.      The 
ship    about    which    we    are    anxious    had 
several  Christians  on  board,  I  understand." 
His  look   was   inquiring,   and   Junius   an- 
swered it.    "  It  had.    My  wife  is  one  of  that 
sect,  sire.    They  arrested  her  at  a  meeting, 
and  I  have  come  by  land  to  see  what  can 
be  done  for  her  relief." 

The  other  listened  intently.  "At  a  meet- 
ing? It  must  have  been  the  same.  See 
here,  my  good  man,  the  wind  is  sharp  this 
morning.  Come  with  me  to  my  home  for  a 
little.  I  too  have  on  board  this  missing 
galley  a  friend  who  was  also  arrested  at  a 
meeting  in  Philippi,  and  I  would  gladly 
learn  something  more  definite  of  that  event 
if  possible.  My  chariot  is  waiting  outside. 
I  pray  you  come." 

Junius  consented,  but  with  reluctance.  It 
was  torture  for  him  to  recall  that  night  even 
in  thought,  and  how  could  he  acknowledge 
to  another  his  part  in  the  sad  result?  But 
his  repentance  was  sincere,  and  he  felt  it  a 
well-merited  punishment  that  he  must  al- 
ways be  pointed  out  as  the  betrayer  of  those 
whom  he  now  gladly  claimed  as  brothers 
and  sisters  in  Christ.  Then,  too,  he  might 
glean  some  new  facts  or  gain  some  new 
friends  helpful  to  Elizabeth,  and  for  her 


sake  he  could  not  refuse  this  man's  courtesy. 
So  he  followed  him  into  his  finely-wrought 
chariot,  with  scarce  a  thought  of  its  mag- 
nificence, though  once  Junius  would  have 
swelled  with  pride  over  such  an  honor,  and 
was  borne  swiftly  to  the  palatial  home  of 
Gaius— for  this  was  he — upon  Palatine  Hill. 

Here  he  followed  the  latter  through  vesti- 
bule and  ostium  into  the  atrium,  or  parlor, 
where  even  the  absorption  of  Junius  was 
not  so  great  as  to  quite  blind  him  to  its 
beauty.  A  noble  vista  opened  before  him, 
of  which  this  lofty  apartment  was  but  the  . 
beginning.  From  the  paneled  walls,  painted 
in  rare  designs,  beautiful  statuary  was  set 
out  on  pedestals  of  onyx  and  malachite  in 
rich  relief,  while  the  floor,  inlaid  with  mar- 
ble in  charming  patterns,  was  a  work  of  art 
in  itself.  Directly  in  the  center  was  the  iin- 
pluvium,  or  square  of  water,  from  the  center 
of  which  rose  a  feathery  spray,  and  above 
this  cooling  basin,  protected  by  a  brass  rail- 
ing, the  roof  curved  inwards  from  all  sides 
to  an  opening  corresponding  in  shape  and 
size,  through  which  the  light  poured  in, 
transforming  the  vapors  into  broken  rain- 
bows, wavering  and  graceful  as  ribbons 
blown  in  the  breeze.  A  striped  awning, 
now  rolled  to  one  side,  could  if  necessary  be 
drawn  across  this  skylight,  shutting  out  the 
too  ardent  sun  of  noonday. 

Gaius  seated  his  guest  upon  an  ottoman, 
drew  another  close  beside  him,  and  the  two 
were  soon  in  earnest  converse.  Junius  told 
the  wThole  story  plainly  and  without  reserve, 
even  to  his  own  baseness  and  low  estate. 
Gaius  listened  without  comment,  but  as  he 
glanced  now  and  then  into  that  countenance 
upon  which  its  story  was  graven  in  lines  cut 
by  regret  and  despair,  he  could  not  feel 
other  than  intense  pity  for  this  misguided, 
suffering  man. 

"  I  aimed,"  said  Juuius  slowly,  "  to  strike 
at  two  people  who  had  incurred  my  dis- 
pleasure, and  God  drove  the  blow  home  to 
my  own  heart." 

"Then  both  those  people  escaped?"  asked 
Gaius. 

"They  did." 

"  Strange  how  little  we  control  events 
after  all!"  mused  the  politarch.  "Even. 
Christ  pleased  not  Himself,  yet  no  act  of  His 
ever  went  astray."  Then  turning  brusquely 
to  Junius  he  asked,  "What  think  you  of 
your  wife's  faith?  Was  Jesus  of  Nazareth 
the  Christ?" 

Junius  bent  his  head.  "  I  believe  He  was 
and  is,"  was  the  earnest  answer;  and  Gaius 


88 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIP  PL 


felt  this  was  a  conviction  of  slow  growth, 
perhaps,  but  laid  in  foundations  deep  and 
strong. 

As  they  conversed  further  the  host  told 
how,  upon  his  own  journey  to  Rome,  imder- 
taken  so  near  the  same  time,  the  ship  had 
been  obliged  to  keep  to  a  southerly  course, 
in  order  to  avoid  a  long  and  terrible  storm 
which  raged  for  days  along  the  Adriatic 
shores  and  doubtless  occasioned  much  de- 
lay to  shipping  in  that  region.  He  had  long 
ago  decided  that  the  convict  ship  must  have 
gone  into  winter  quarters,  if  not  lost  at  sea, 
and  was  now  daily  expecting  word  of  it, 
since  navigation  was  opened  once  more.  He 
said,  moreover,  that  he  had  positively  as- 
sured himself  these  special  prisoners  were 
not  in  Rome,  as  he  had  instituted  the  strict- 
est search  for  them  through  every  prison 
and  castle. 

When  Junius  finally  departed,  it  was  to 
feel  greatly  encouraged  and  strengthened, 
and  the  parting  was  most  friendly,  each 
promising  to  acquaint  the  other  with  any 
news  he  might  receive. 

February  had  passed,  March  was  coming 
in  shod  with  sandals  of  green,  and  it  was 
early  morning.  The  air  was  soft  with  odors 
and  crisp  with  recent  rains,  and  the  streets 
were  lively  with  slaves  hurrying  to  the 
houses  of  their  masters  for  their  daily  ra- 
tions of  food.  Not  till  later  would  the  heavy 
teams  for  traffic  be  allowed,  and  now  there 
was  plenty  of  bustle  without  noise,  for  the 
bare  feet  trod  lightly,  and  the  servants  knew 
better  than  to  disturb  their  indolent  sleeping 
patrons  by  too  loud  talk  and  laughter.  One 
of  them,  however,  ventured  to  approach  the 
house  of  Cleotas,  arouse  the  porter,  and  in- 
quire for  Junius.  He  was  summoned,  and 
the  fair-haired  youth  of  a  foreign  cast  of 
countenance  (whom  we  would  have  recog- 
nized as  Harold)  stepped  forward  with  his 
message. 

"  Sir,  my  master,  Gaius,  the  politarch,  has 
news  of  a  certain  ship  lately  landed  at 
Puteoli.  There  are  said  to  be  Christians  on 
board,  notably  one  of  celebrity  well  known 
both  at  Philippi  and  Thessalouica— the 
Apostle  Paul,  who  is  being  brought  to  Rome 
for  trial.  My  master  intends  to  go  by  land  to 
meet  these  people,  and  would  be  pleased 
to  have  you  and  your  friends  accompany  the 
party,  of  which  there  are  not  a  few." 

Junius  thanked  the  messenger  and  prom- 
ised to  join  the  party  immediately.  Then 
dismissing  him,  he  hastened  to  send  the 


word  to  the  private  rooms  of  Cleotas  and 
Nadab.  It  quickly  brought  the  household, 
excited,  inquisitive,  and  eager  to  join  the  ex- 
pedition. Cleotas  and  Nadab  prepared  to  ac- 
company Junius,  and  Salome  was  almost  re- 
bellious at  being  left  behind,  for  once  be- 
wailing her  sex,  that  it  should  prevent  her. 

But  she  did  not  cease  to  aid  her  women  in 
making  ready  the  early  meal  and  helping 
the  men  in  their  preparations,  though  tears 
kept  rising  to  her  eyes  as  she  thought  that 
her  dear  Elizabeth  might  be  of  the  convict 
group,  and  if  so  would  be  longing  for  one 
loving  face  of  womankind  to  greet  her  after 
this  long  and  wearisome  journey.  She  men- 
tally resolved  that  she  would  at  least  be 
carried  in  her  litter  as  far  as  the  Porta 
Latina,  an  arched  gate  of  the  inner  wall,  or 
possibly  even  to  the  place  of  tombs  beyond, 
and  after  the  departure  of  the  others,  went 
about  her  own  preparations,  comforted  by 
this  thought. 

She  was  sitting  at  her  embroidery,  await- 
ing the  time  to  go,  when  Nadab  came  rush- 
ing in  again  in  great  excitement. 

"Come,  hurry!"  he  cried  with  boyish 
roughness.  "  There  are  ladies  going,  too — 
some  from  the  politarch's  household,  and 
others — and  I  have  come  back  for  you.  We 
are  to  join  them  in  the  suburbs.  I  will  run 
and  order  your  litter  while  you  make  ready, 
and  then  will  conduct  you  the  shortest  way 
to  the  arch  under  the  aqueduct— what  do 
you  call  it?" 

"  The  Porta  Capena?  So  far  as  that?  Oh, 
Nadab,  how  good  you  are!  I  will  not  keep 
you  waiting  a  minute." 

Salome  hurried  to  call  her  maids,  and  was 
at  once  in  the  center  of  a  bustle  of  prepara- 
tion, while  Nadab  ran  out  to  summon  her 
litter-bearers  and  promise  them  liberal 
recompense  for  their  swiftest  work.  Then 
he  mounted  his  mule  and  impatiently 
awaited  her  outside,  though  in  fact  it  was 
not  five  minutes  later  when  Salome  entered 
her  litter,  and  the  little  group  started 
briskly  down  the  hilly  street. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE  MEETING  AT  THE  THREE  TAVERNS. 

IT  was  always  a  slow  task  making  one's 
way  through  the  crowded   Suburra.   but 
having   left    behind   that    somewhat    un- 
savory  locality,    with    its    many   shops   and 
questionable    resorts,    they    rapidly    skirted 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


89 


the  Palatine,  its  roomy  palaces  and  gardens 
in  sharp  contrast  to  the  squalor  behind 
them,  and  struck  off  at  a  goodly  pace  past 
the  villas  lining  the  way.  Presently  they 
reached  the  Porta  Capeua,  its  arch  always 
dripping  from  the  aqueduct  above  it,  and 
clattered  on  quite  into  the  suburbs,  where 
fine  mausoleums  lined  the  white-paved  road 
for  miles. 

It  was  a  spring  morning,  and  the  whole 
atmosphere  was  rich  with  those  first  faint 
earthy  scents  which  each  year  thrill  us 
anew  with  their  promise  of  future  verdure 
and  beauty.  While  Salome  was  delightedly 
sniffing  the  perfume  of  the  newly  upturned 
farm-lands  on  either  hand,  she  iieard  Nadab 
give  an  exclamation,  and  saw  him  make  a 
dash  forward.  Leaning  out  between  her 
curtains,  she  quickly  discovered  the  cause. 
The  party  they  were  to  accompany  stood 
awaiting  them,  gathered  in  a  knot  beneath 
a  clump  of  mulberry  trees,  and  a  horseman 
spurred  forwards  instantly  at  sight  of 
Nadab,  to  cry  out  approvingly:  "  In  excel- 
lent time,  my  boy!  We  have  but  just  ar- 
rived." 

Then  the  speaker  came  close  to  the  litter 
to  whisper  merrily,  as  he  bent  to  the  beloved 
face  between  the  curtains: 

"  Ah,  my  Salome,  you  always  conquer  in 
the  end!  I  was  happy  to  be  able  to  send  for 
you.  Here  they  all  are,  the  Lady  ^Enone 
and  her  friends,  and  waiting  to  greet  you." 

He  gave  a  quick  command,  and  the  litter- 
bearers  brought  their  burden  abreast  of  the 
more  beautiful  lectica  in  blue  and  steel, 
from  which  a  bright,  intelligent  face,  its 
veil  pushed  aside  for  the  moment,  looked 
forth  as  the  owner  said: 

"  And  this,  then,  is  the  wife  of  Cleotas?  I 
am  glad  to  know  her,  and  have  her  company 
this  fair  morning.  Let  me  present  my 
friend,  Agistha." 

A  pale,  sad,  young  countenance,  with 
darkly  shadowed  eyes,  peered  out,  and 
Agistha  and  Salome  greeted  each  other  in 
friendly  fashion.  Others  of  both  sexes  were 
in  the  party,  but  Gains  with  a  laughing 
word  took  command,  ui'ging  haste,  and  the 
little  procession,  headed  by  two  lictors,  pro- 
ceeded on  its  way,  the  horsemen  in  front, 
then  the  litters— the  Lady  vEnone's  taking 
precedence — and  lastly  Nadab  on  his  mule. 

In  this  way  they  traversed  a  distance  of 
seventeen  miles  to  a  place  of  resort  known 
as  the  Three  Taverns,  where,  in  consider- 
ation of  the  tired  litter-beai-ers,  the  party 
was  to  rest,  enjoy  the  noon  meal,  and  await 


the  coming  of  Paul  and  such  other  Chris- 
tians as  might  be  with  him. 

None  of  the  company  had  reason  to  expect 
to  meet  any  nearer  friend  than  he,  yet,  in 
spite  of  themselves,  in  the  hearts  of  both 
Agistha  and  Junius  was  a  trembling  hope 
that  the  dear  partner  each  longed  for  might 
be  found  with  Paul. 

As  the  women  gathered  in  the  room  sot 
apart  for  them  in  the  inn,  they  soon  made 
acquaintance  and  talked  eagerly,  for  t:.;\y 
had  been  brought  together  by  a  common  in- 
terest. All  reverenced  the  great  Paul  and 
longed  to  prove  their  friendship,  even  though 
he  came  to  them  in  chains,  and  Salome  was 
full  of  excitement  at  thought  of  seeing  once 
more  the  man  who  had  first  thoroughly  con- 
vinced her  of  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus.  But 
as  she  watched  Agistha's  tremulous  absorp- 
tion and  lack  of  appetite,  she  pushed  aside 
her  own  hot  wheaten  cakes  and  honey  to 
ask  eagerly: 

"  Is  it  possible  you  really  expect  to  see 
your  husband  in  this  company?  You  see  I 
know  of  your  loss  from  Junius,  who  has  told 
me  of  you.  If  so,  then  doubtless  Elizabeth 
will  be  with  them,  too;  but  I  dare  not  hope 
it." 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  I  '  hope '  It,"  replied 
Agistha,"  but  I  do  feel  it.  Ever  since  I 
awoke  to  hear  this  news,  I  have  felt  that  I 
should  see  him— but  oh!  what  then?  What 
then?" 

She  turned  away,  choking  with  emotion, 
and  Salome's  pitying  eyes  met  vEnone's. 

"  True  enough,"  she  murmured,  "  but  I 
had  not  thought  of  that.  I  have  been  all  ab- 
sorbed in  the  idea  of  seeing  these  good  peo- 
ple, of  hearing,  perhaps,  some  news  of  my 
friends,  and  I  forgot  they  come  as  captives, 
to  be  consigned  to  the  dungeons  beneath  the 
forum  before  we  can  do  more  than  exchange 
a  word  with  them." 

Yet,  in  spite  of  future  forebodings,  pres- 
ent hope  could  not  but  buoy  them  up.  Only 
to  see  those  from  whom  they  had  been  so 
long  separated,  if  this  was  to  be,  only  to  be 
sure  they  were  alive,  was  a  great  boon,  and 
insensibly  their  spirits  rose  as  each  felt  all 
the  others  in  perfect  accord  with  herself. 
Gains  presently  came  in  to  say  that  some  of 
the  men  had  decided  to  ride  on,  hoping  to 
meet  Paul's  party  soon,  and  would  leave 
the  lictors  behind  to  attend  upon  the  ladies. 
These  now  gathered  close  behind  the  lattices 
to  watch  them  ride  away,  then  settled  them- 
se'ves  for  a  longer,  or  shorter,  waiting. 
The  afternoon  dragged  slowly  on,  and 


90 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


nothing  happened.  It  was  nearing  the 
ninth  hour.  Two  or  three,  including  JEnone, 
had  fallen  asleep,  and  Salome  was  dozing, 
when  Agistha,  who  had  been  sitting  in 
severe  quiet  within  the  embrasure  of  the 
window  overhanging  the  court  below,  made 
a  quick  movement  and  bent  forward  atten- 
tively, her  hand  behind  her  ear.  In  the  dis- 
tance, far  and  faint,  she  thought  she  could 
discern  voices  and  the  tread  of  many  feet, 
mingled  with  a  clicking  noise  that  suggested 
the  impact  of  steel  on  steel.  From  where 
she  sat  only  a  portion  of  the  paved  court 
was  visible,  but  that  portion  included  the 
wide-arched  opening  connecting  it  with  the 
street.  It  was  thence  she  now  turned  her 
eyes  in  a  piercing  gaze.  The  sounds  she 
had  heard  grew  more  distinct,  and  she  knew 
them,  now,  for  the  tread  of  feet  shackled  by 
fetters. 

Yes!  Here  through  the  arch  comes  a 
mounted  guard— another— their  shirts  of 
mail  gleaming  like  fish-scales  in  the  sun; 
two  more,  then — oh!  how  her  heart  beat  as 
her  glance  ran  like  lightning  over  the  first 
four  of  the  prisoners,  all  chained  together! 
Not  one  was  known  to  her.  But  here  come 
two  more  between  soldiers,  with  wrist-fet- 
ters only,  and  these  she  recognizes  as  Paul 
and  his  companion,  Aristarchus  of  Thes- 
salonica,  a  well-known  brother  there.  Are 
there  no  more?  Ah!  what  is  this?  Two 
women  on  a  pillion.  She  looked  quickly 
around  and  called,  "  Salome,  madam,  come 
at  once!"  then  turned  back  to  her  eager 
watch,  while  Salome,  thus  suddenly  aroused 
from  her  light  doze,  sprang  up  and  came 
forward  with  a  shower  of  questions. 

But  Agistha  did  not  answer.  Instead,  she 
raised  a  hand,  and  gave  a  cry  that  awoke 
all  the  sleepers,  "My  husband!  My  hus- 
band!" for  behind  the  women,  again  in 
fours,  are  other  men,  and  among  them — 
though  bearded,  haggard,  and  browned  nke 
an  Arab— Herklas! 

Her  cry  was  caught  up  by  Salome,  who 
had  recognized  Elizabeth  in  one  of  the 
women,  and  the  two  simultaneously  made  a 
dash  for  the  corridor  outside,  followed 
closely  by  ^Enone  and  the  other  women. 
So  far,  Salome  had  no  mea  of  the  name  of 
Agistha's  husband.  It  had  not  been  men- 
tioned before  her.  When  Gaius  or  ^Enone 
had  spoken  of  him  they  gave  him  his  title 
in  the  church:  the  few  times  Agistha  had 
referred  to  him  she  named  him  as  her  hus- 
band: and  in  the  brown-bearded  man  just 
marched  into  the  court  of  the  inn,  there  was 


but  little  trace,  to  a  casual  glance,  of  the 
boy  who  had  left  home  nine  years  before. 
Then,  too,  her  whole  thought  now  centered 
in  Elizabeth,  except  such  as  all  gave  to  the 
Apostle,  whose  fate  they  watched  with  deep 
interest. 

When  the  women  reached  the  court  they 
found  it  filled  with  an  excited  company — not 
only  their  own  group,  but  quite  a  party  who 
had  gone  further  on,  even  to  Appii-Forum, 
the  first  mule-station  on  the  twenty-mile 
canal  built  by  Augustus  to  drain  the  Pontine 
Marshes,  and  an  important  point  for  travel- 
ers approaching  from  the  coast.  So  it  was 
a  large  cavalcade  of  horses,  donkeys,  and 
foot-passengers  who  now  thronged  the 
paved  square  to  its  utmost  capacity. 

But  our  hurrying  women  had  only  a  dim 
impression  of  the  scene  as  they  poured  out 
of  the  house  door.  Agistha,  who  had  out- 
run the  rest,  slipped  in  and  out  amid  the 
throng,  supple  as  a  serpent,  and  .ZEnone  fol- 
lowed at  her  heels,  scarcely  less  excited. 
But  Salome  turned  from  them  and  ran  close 
by  the  wall  with  her  eyes  fixed  upon  a  pil- 
lion, half  concealed  between  two  mounted 
men  who  hovered  close  about  it,  and  whom 
she  saw  to  be  Junius  and  Xadab. 

"Elizabeth!"   she  called,   "Elizabeth!" 

At  the  cry  Herklas,  in  the  center  of  the 
mass,  turned  surprisedly— turned  only  to  see 
a  slender  figure,  which  did  not  at  all  belong 
to  the  strangely  familiar  voice,  reaching  for 
him  despite  the  guard's  angry  protest— and 
forgot  the  odd  impression  in  the  rapture  of 
beholding  his  wife  at  his  very  side,  and  be- 
hind her  his  tried  friend  and  patron. 

Salome  was  answered  by  Elizabeth's 
sweet  voice,  placid  as  ever: 

"  Here  we  are,  all  safe,  dear  sister.  My 
husband,  my  son.  and  you.  How  gracious  is 
the  Lord!  Ah,  Salome,  this  pays  for  all." 

She  clasped  her  friend  close,  then  turned 
again  to  Junius,  whose  eyes  scarcely  left 
her  face.  The  joy,  the  surprise,  of  finding 
her  own  where  she  had  looked  only  for  new 
strangeness  and  fresh  terrors,  made  Eliza- 
beth radiant.  One  glance,  one  word,  his 
very  presence,  had  been  enough  to  convince 
her  of  her  husband's  repentance,  and  it 
seemed  to  her  for  the  time  being  that  she 
was  indeed  repaid  for  months  of  peril  and 
hardship  by  sea  and  land,  in  this  unex- 
pected joy  vouchsafed  to  her. 

But  Elizabeth,  even  in  this  supreme  mo- 
ment, could  not  be  selfish.  She  said  eagerly: 

"  Dear  Salome,  let  me  bespeak  your  kind- 
est attention  for  my  friend  here  with  me. 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


91 


Her  name  is  Eunice,  and  you  have  met  her 
at  home.  We  were  taken  together,  and  I 
can  never  tell  all  she  has  been  to  me  on  this 
terrible  journey!" 

Salome  hastened  to  greet  the  delicate 
young  creature  who  had  outlived  so  many 
perils,  but  had  time  for  only  a  word,  as  the 
soldiers  ordered  back  the  crowd,  and  formed 
quickly  about  the  prisoners,  commanding 
that  they  seat  themselves  on  the  pavement, 
as  food  would  be  given  them  before  they 
resumed  the  march.  One  of  the  guards 
thrust  Junius  aside  and  bade  the  women 
dismount,  but  Gaius  now  appeared,  ready  to 
greet  the  friends  of  his  new  friends. 

He  saw  the  look  upon  the  husband's  face 
at  being  thus  treated,  and  said  cheerily: 

"  Ah,  friend,  I  see  you  have  been  made 
happy  as  well  as  Agistha.  And  this  is  the 
dear  wife  you  have  looked  for  so  long? 
Peace  be  with  you,  lady.  And  now,  courage, 
all!  I  know  the  centurion  in  command,  and 
as  soon  as  I  can  get  speech  with  him  I  shall 
ask  that  we  be  allowed  to  serve  all  these 
Christian  friends,  also  the  guards,  who  must 
not  be  overlooked,"— he  bowed  courteously 
to  the  helmet  beside  him,  and  received  a 
ready  military  salute  in  return,—"  with  a 
good  and  abundant  meal;  then  with  bodies 
and  spirits  both  refreshed,  we  can  accom- 
pany them  on  the  last  stage  of  their  march." 

The  guard's  visage  expressed  satisfaction, 
and  he  considerately  stepped  back,  leaving 
the  reunited  to  themselves.  Thus  Gaius, 
winning  all  with  courteous  words  and  well- 
bestowed  gifts,  was  allowed  to  carry  out  his 
hospitable  plan,  and  soon  as  excellent  a  sup- 
per as  the  inn  could  furnish  was  smoking  on 
a  hastily-improvised  table  in  the  court. 

Once  more  these  dear  ones  met  in  perfect 
accord,  putting  aside,  for  the  time,  all  fears 
and  forebodings,  to  enjoy  to  the  full  a  meet- 
ing fraught  with  hope  and  comfort  for  each. 
Paul  conversed  with  those  who  had  come 
so  far  to  greet  him,  hearing  their  good  re- 
port of  the  churches  he  had  founded, 
and  giving  in  return  such  counsel  and 
spiritual  advice  as  would  linger  in  their 
memories  for  life. 

For  Elizabeth  it  was  an  hour  set  out  in 
whitest  light.  With  hands  clasped  in  those 
of  husband  and  son  she  turned  her  shining 
eyes  upward  in  thanksgiving  for  the  mercies 
of  God.  When  Junius  brokenly  tried  to  ex- 
plain the  terrible  mistake  which  had 
brought  her  here,  she  checked  him. 

"It  was  the  will  of  the  Christ,  my  hus- 
band. He  has  honored  me  by  allowing  me 


also  to  come  to  testify  in  Rome,  even  as 
Paul  will  do.  And  in  spite  of  shipwreck  and 
the  many  perils  we  have  gone  through, 
these  mouths  have  been  blessed  to  us  all, 
for  Paul  has  directed  us,  and  Christ  has 
been  with  us,  to  save  and  comfort.  Do  not 
reproach  yourself,  or  pity  me— and  never, 
Junius,  speak  of  forgiveness  between  us 
two!  I  have  always  pleaded  for  you  as  you 
never  could  for  yourself;  it  is  enough  that 
God  has  answered  me,  and  you  are  His — 
and  mine." 

The  brief  rest  over,  the  little  company 
took  up  its  line  of  march  again,  and  even 
the  chains  seemed  to  have  grown  lighter  be- 
cause of  this  companionship  and  cheer.  The 
guard  in  charge  of  the  women,  through 
some  mysterious  influence,  even  allowed 
Elizabeth  to  ride  in  Salome's  litter,  saying 
it  would  lighten  the  mule's  load,  and  fell  a 
pace  or  two  behind,  allowing  Junius  and 
Nadab  to  ride  on  either  hand.  Evidently 
Gaius  and  Cleotas  had  busied  themselves  to 
some  purpose!  Thus  they  marched,  some- 
times talking  low  and  intimately,  again 
listening  to  the  wise  discourse  of  Paul,  anon 
breaking  into  singing,  sweet  and  holy. 

But  a  change  was  made  in  the  cavalcade 
as  they  neared  the  city.  Elizabeth  was  re- 
quested to  resume  her  seat  on  the  pillion, 
the  prisoners  were  bunched  together,  and 
the  guard  formed  a  hollow  square  about 
them.  In  this  orderly  manner  they  were 
conducted  to  the  forum,  and  there  formally 
delivered  over  to  Burrhus,  who  consigned 
them  to  the  captain  of  the  guard  to  be  led 
to  the  dungeons. 

With  wet  eyes  the  party  from  Rome  called 
out  their  farewells,  watched  them  till  they 
disappeared,  then  slowly  turned  away  to 
their  homes,  unable  to  do  more  for  those 
they  loved.  Yet  that  night  Junius  slept  like 
a  child,  and  Agistha,  clasping  her  baby  to 
her  heart,  thanked  God  for  this  sweet  day, 
whatever  the  future  might  have  in  store. 


CHAPTER   XXV. 
A  TEST  OF  LOYALTY. 

A   WEEK  or  so  before  the  coming  of  the 
prisoners  to  Rome,  Hector  and  Aulus 
Clotius  were  closeted  with  a  man  who 
gave  evidences  of  a  long  journey,  and  whose 
air  of  furtive  anxiety  bespoke  him  either  a 
fugitive  from  justice,  or  a  messenger  bear- 
ing secret  tidings  which  would  imperil  his 


92 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


life,  if  discovered.  He,  in  fact,  announced 
himself  as  an  ambassador  from  Marcus 
Salvius  Otho,  the  former  husband  of 
Poppoea,  now  in  Lusitania,  and  owned  to 
bearing  dispatches  of  a  treasonable  char- 
acter. He  claimed  it  could  scarcely  be  won- 
dered at  that  this  outraged  and  banished 
husband  should  hate  his  usurper  and  long  to 
be  avenged,  saying  further  that  his  spies  at 
court  had  kept  him  constantly  informed  of 
events  there.  When  he  thus  learned  of  the 
covert  rebuffs  aimed  at  Aulus  Clotius,  he 
shrewdly  singled  him  out  as  one  who  would 
be  ready  to  further  the  interests  of  any  op- 
ponent to  the  throne.  In  a  word,  Otho  was 
longing  to  supplant  Nero,  and  felt  that 
Aulus  would  prove  a  powerful  ally,  could  he 
win  his  allegiance.  His  influence  with  the 
army  was  great,  and  his  bravery  proverbial. 

This  was  well  known  to  the  messenger 
himself,  who  had  long  been  acquainted  with 
Aulus  in  the  army,  and  could  judge  of  his 
abilities,  he  being  also  a  military  officer, 
though  in  another  branch  of  the  service. 
Hector,  as  one  more  directly  in  touch  with 
the  Praetorian  Guards,  had  been  also  ad- 
mitted to  the  interview,  and  sat  in  grave 
silence  as  the  messenger  unfolded  his  plan. 

This  was  cunningly  devised  and  complete 
in  detail,  but  as  Aulus  examined  the  papyri, 
and  listened  to  the  concise  explanations,  he 
shook  his  head  dubiously. 

"  Rome  is  not  yet  ripe  for  the  change,"  he 
protested.  "  We  all  know  what  Nero  is,  but 
the  populace  does  not.  He  gives  it  plenty  of 
festivals,  games,  and  spectacles— why,  he 
has  just  had  fifty  lions,  thirty  leopards,  and 
twenty-seven  magnificent  tigers  added  to 
the  dens  in  the  amphitheatre!  Then  coin  is 
plenty  here,  if  the  provincials  do  complain, 
and  favors  are  given  largely.  No,  Plutus, 
it  will  not  do!  We  must  wait." 

The  messenger  turned  his  dark,  disap- 
pointed face  upon  Hector.  "  And  do  you, 
too,  counsel  delay,  my  brave  centurion?" 

Hector  was  sitting  with  his  chin  upon  his 
hand  and  his  eyes  bent  on  the  floor.  "  I  am 
thinking,"  he  answered  slowly,  "  whether  it 
is  worth  while  to  exchange  the  leopard  for 
the  panther.  If  one's  bones  are  to  be 
crunched,  it  matters  little  about  the  teeth, 
save  that  the  sharper  they  me  the  quicker 
the  end." 

Plutus  laughed  with  some  amusement. 
"  You  think  Otho  but  a  new  Nero  with  an- 
other name?"  he  asked. 

"  I  fancy  either  woiild  hold  Rome  in  his 
palm  and  squeeze  it  for  his  own  indulgence. 


If  there  were  a  man,  now,  who  could  be 
careful  of  his  subjects,  watchful  of  their  in- 
terests, self-forgetful  even  unto  death, 
and—" 

"Bah!  Would  you  expect  a  Christus?" 
laughed  the  messenger.  "  You  see  bow  little 
He  was  fitted  to  keep  His  Jewish  kingdom. 
Why,  He  died  like  a  thief  upon  the  cross! 
No,  no!  what  we  want  is  a  man,  indeed,  but 
not  such  a  man!  Rome  would  not  know 
what  to  do  with  a  ruler  who  did  not  ride 
over  her  in  his  chariot.  She  adores  a 
tyrant!" 

Hector  sighed.  He  felt  this  was  too  near 
the  truth  to  be  denied.  Nero  had  reached  a 
summit  whose  glory  set  him  apart,  and  the 
populace  gazed,  and  hailed  him  a  god.  But 
Hector,  knowing  the  stains  upon  his  record, 
the  pettinesses  of  his  character,  the  cow- 
ardice beneath  his  bravado,  felt  a  deep  dis- 
gust which  it  was  difficult,  always,  to  con- 
ceal. He  had  begun  to  long  for  purity,  and 
this  hypocrite  in  a  high  place  revolted  him 
to  the  depths. 

The  interview  was  long,  but  conclusive. 
Both  Aulus  and  Hector  refused  to  act  in  the 
matter,  and  after  mutual  pledges  of  pro- 
found secrecy,  Plutus  withdrew.  When  he 
had  left  their  presence  Aulus  turned  to  his 
client. 

"  Hector,"  he  said  impulsively,  "  I  am 
glad  you  stood  by  me  in  this.  You  said 
rightly  when  you  inferred  that  such  a 
change  of  masters  would  be  but  a  change  of 
evils.  And  yet  the  day  is  coming— yes,  we 
will  live  to  see  it— when  this  people  will  turn 
and  rend  their  Caesar,  even  as  now  they 
deify  him.  Do  you  not  believe  me?" 

Hector  nodded  thoughtfully.  "  It  is  only 
a  question  of  time,  Sir  Praetor."  Then  in  a 
lower  tone:  "  But,  meanwhile,  if  he  is  de- 
termined to  crush  you?  I  have  heard  of  this 
latest  slight,  my  Aulus;  you  were  entirely 
ignored  in  the  last  festival.  Where  every 
singer  appeared,  the  voice  of  Aulus  Clotius 
was  silent;  where  the  viol-players  numbered 
fourscore,  the  instrument  of  the  brave 
general  and  praetor  was  absent." 

A  quick  flush  dyed  the  other's  bronzed 
cheek.  "  Such  an  insult  is  in  reality  an 
ovation,  my  Hector.  Nero  will  not  see  him- 
self surpassed,  so  he  bars  me  out.  If  his 
malice  ends  there,  I  am  fortunate.  The  son 
of  Aleutius  can  exist  without  a  stage  suc- 
cess—he will  leave  that  to  the  Emperor!" 

The  tone  was  bitterly  sarcastic,  but  his 
laugh  rang  out  as  carelessly  as  ever. 
"  Come,  come!  what  matters?  Caesar  cannot 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


93 


rob  me  of  my  recollections,  nor  dare  he 
hinder  the  Praetorian  Guards  from  flashing 
their  swords  in  military  salute  whenever  I 
appear;  no  more  can  he  take  from  me  the 
love  of  my  mother,  wife,  and  children— nor 
of  such  as  thee,  my  brave,  true  Hector!  Let 
him  enjoy  his  triumphs;  the  earth  is  wide." 

A  few  days  later  a  sudden  order  sum- 
moned the  praetor  to  the  palace,  and  at  the 
hour  when  the  party  of  Gaius  was  on  the 
Appian  Way,  nearing  the  Three  Taverns, 
Aulus  was  waiting  in  the  anteroom  of 
Nero's  judgment  hall,  trying  to  subdue  his 
forebodings  and  steel  his  countenance  into 
utter  indifference  towards  whatever  new 
blow  the  tyrant  might  have  in  store  for  him. 
He  was  not  kept  waiting  long,  and  when 
he  entered  the  wide  apartment  beyond,  he 
was  almost  dazed  by  his  reception.  Instead 
of  the  supercilious  smile  or  the  frowning 
brow  to  which  he  was  used,  Nero  turned 
upon  him  a  look  of  frank  pleasure,  seem- 
ingly, and  cried  with  heartiness: 

"  Come  hither,  Sir  Praetor!  I  have  a  ques- 
tion to  ask  of  you." 

Bowing  low,  and  wondering  what  this 
might  betoken,  Aulus  advanced  to  the  foot 
of  the  throne,  and  bent  his  knee  before  the 
curled  and  perfumed  Emperor.  But  when 
he  rose  he  could  not  restrain  a  start,  while 
his  face  paled  perceptibly— at  his  right  hand 
stood  Plutus,  the  messenger,  an  inscrutable 
look  upon  his  face  and  his  eyes  discreetly 
lowered. 

"I  am  lost!"  thought  Aulus,  and  drew 
himself  up  proudly,  resolved  that  Nero,  who 
had  once  been  his  familiar  friend,  should 
not  be  gratified  by  signs  of  weakness. 

But  Caesar  was  speaking.  "  Aulus  Clotius, 
general  and  praetor,  do  you  know  this  man?" 
He  pointed  to  Plutus. 

Aulus  gazed  at  the  messenger  scrutiniz- 
Ingly.  "  Unless  I  am  mistaken,  Cresar,  he  is 
Plutus  Aurelius,  a  commander  of  cavalry, 
and  a  brave  soldier." 

"  Indeed!  And  this  is  all  you  know  of 
himV" 

"  It  comprises  most  of  my  knowledge,  sire. 
In  detail,  I  know  him  also  to  be  a  good 
talker,  and  a  man  of  rare  ability  as  a  disci- 
plinarian." 

Nero  laughed.  "Then  you  have  talked 
with  him?" 

"  Often,  Caesar." 

"With  what   purport?" 

Aulus  seemed  groping  for  definite  recollec- 
tions. "  It  is  difficult  to  remember  all,  O 


Caesar,  but  generally  upon  matters  of  war- 
fare, as  I  bethink  me." 

"  And  have  you  never  talked  of  Caesar?" 

"  Undoubtedly." 

"With  what  conclusion?  Come,  let  me 
hear  all." 

The  Emperor,  with  a  smile  of  cunning, 
leaned  easily  back  and  tapped  the  golden 
lion-heads  of  his  throne-arms  with  his  long 
finger-nails. 

Aulus  noted  the  manner,  and  a  feeling  of 
desperation  came  over  him.  So  far  he  had 
told  the  truth,  if  not  the  whole  truth;  every 
answer  had  been  in  consonance  with  facts, 
if  not  with  the  fact  which  Nero  was  striving 
to  obtain  from  him.  He  fe»t  that  in  reality 
concealment  was  of  little  use.  for  undoubt- 
edly Nero  knew  all;  still,  honor  would  not 
permit  him  to  betray  a  comrade-in-arms, 
even  to  save  himself.  In  his  desperation  he 
suddenly  resolved  to  make  a  bold  stroke,  let 
the  consequences  be  what  they  might,  and 
with  the  quick  resolve  came  something  of 
that  grim  daring  which  made  this  man  a 
hero  in  real  stress  and  danger. 

Bending  a  little  forward  and  letting  a 
twinkle  creep  into  his  eye,  he  answered 
easily: 

"  At  last  Caesar  has  awakened  my 
memory.  I  did  talk  with  Plutus  and  express 
myself  too  freely,  doubtless.  I  said  the 
noble  Caesar  had  failed  woefully  in  judg- 
ment once,  for  he  had  spoiled  a  good  general 
to  make  a  poor  praetor  when  he  called  me  to 
that  office.  And  Plutus  agreed  with  me." 

Nothing  so  pleased  Nero  as  dauntlessness, 
and  the  mingled  humor  and  audacity  of  this 
answer  fairly  took  him  off  his  feet.  He 
broke  into  laughter,  which  proved  con- 
tagious. His  favorites  joined  in,  Aulus  felt 
his  own  face  twitching,  and  Plutus  suddenly 
put  his  hand  over  his  mouth  as  if  to  conceal 
his  risibles.  For  the  minute  Nero's  better 
self  was  in  the  ascendency,  and  he  showed 
clemency,  which  so  well,  but  alas  so  seldom, 
became  him! 

"  It  is  bravely  said,  my  Aulr.p."  he  cried, 
when  he  could  speak  for  Inuglung,  "and  I 
cannot  misdoubt  yoar  judgment,  however 
you  may  that  of  Caesar,  for  a  poorer  piwtor 
never  wore  the  toga!  Go,  rascal!  I  am 
done  with  you.  And  if  yon  are  presently 
ordered  to  take  command  of  the  legion  about 
to  be  sent  into  Gaul,  blame  yourself.  Such 
bluntness  is  best  fitted  for  the  field.  Go!" 

Dazed  and  delighted,  Aulus  made  haste 
to  retire,  fearing  that  another  word,  or  look 
even,  might  alter  this  benignant  mood. 


94 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHIL1PPL 


When  safely  outside,  however,  he  thought 
regretfully:  "  But  poor  Plutus  is  in  sad 
case.  I  have  not  betrayed  him,  thank 
heaven!  yet  it  is  plain  enough  Caesar  knows 
all.  I  shall  never  see  Plutus  again.  Some 
dungeon  will  swallow  him  up,  unless  for  his 
former  bravery  he  is  permitted  to  fall  upon 
his  own  sword,  or  open  his  veins.  Peace  to 
his  ashes!" 

Imagine,  then,  his  astonishment,  the  next 
morning,  to  meet  the  cavalry  commander  in 
the  forum,  not  only  alive  and  well,  but  look- 
ing smiling  and  assured.  Aulus  was  almost 
too  surprised  to  speak,  but  his  expressive 
face,  as  he  held  out  his  hand  in  greeting, 
made  the  other  break  into  laughter. 

"  You  had  evidently  consigned  me  to 
oblivion,  my  brave  Aulus!"  he  cried  merrily. 
"Is  it  not  so?" 

"  What  else  could  I  do?  I  saw  Caesar  must 
know  all — or  enough  at  least  "—he  lowered 
his  voice  and  looked  cautiously  around, — 
"  but  I  was  determined  not  to  be  your  be- 
trayer." 

"  So  I  perceived,  my  noble  friend,  and 
thank  you  for  it!  But  is  it  possible  you  do 
not  understand,  even  yet?" 

"Understand?  What?"  Aulus  gazed  at 
him  perplexedly. 

"  Truly,  general,  you  are  a  poor  praetor, 
as  you  say,  if  you  cannot  unravel  such  a 
simple  knot  of  duplicity  as  this." 

A  wave  of  color  flushed  the  open  face  of 
Aulus,  then  faded  slowly.  "  Do  you  mean- 
was  that  message — were  those  papyri  you 
would  have  had  me  sign,  really  from— 
Caesar?" 

"Whom  else?" 

"  And  I — great  Olympus!  If  I  had  signed 
them!  It  was  a  plot  then  to  prove  my 
loyalty?" 

"  Something  of  that  nature,  doubtless," 
smiled  the  other. 

Aulus  looked  actually  blank  with  aston- 
ishment, then  came  a  quick  recollection. 
"  But  I  said— Jove!  What  did  I  say, 
Plutus?" 

The  other  laughed  outright.  "  Never  mind 
what  you  said,  comrade.  Would  I  be  base 
enough  to  betray  one  who  shared  his  water- 
skin  with  me  that  blazing  day  on  the  plain 
of  Astivari?  You  did  not  and  would  not 
sign — that  was  my  report,  and  Caesar  once 
more  loves  his  old  friend  Aulus,  though  he 
does  sing  far  too  well  to  please  him.  Learn 
wisdom,  friend!  Be  dumb  henceforth;  have 
a  rheum  that  shall  ruin  your  voice,  dash 
your  viol  against  a  tree,  and  be  content  to 


worship  Mars  rather  than  the  Muses,  de- 
lightful though  they  be." 

"  It  is  good  advice  and  I  will  follow  it. 
Plutus,  you  have  warmed  my  heart!  Rome 
has  at  least  two  men  who  can  be  trusted 
to  stand  by  a  friend— pardon  the  egotism 
that  makes  me  glad  I  am  one  of  them.  And 
see  here,  comrade — if  fortune  favors  me 
once  more,  ask  what  you  will  of  your 
brother-in-arms,  for  we  stand  or  fall  to- 
gether." 

Hector  shared  with  his  patron  the  sudden 
and  astonishing  accession  to  favor  which 
followed  upon  this  farcical  performance  of 
Nero's.  Our  centurion  felt  it  even  before 
he  knew  the  cause.  He  saw  it  in  the  salute 
of  the  guards  on  duty  as  he  went  to  the 
Praetorium  for  his  morning  inspection;  he 
read  it  in  the  kindly  nod  of  Burrhus  as 
they  passed  each  other  in  the  gardens  later; 
and  he  knew  it  when  a  kindly  message  sum- 
moned him  to  the  presence  of  the  emperor, 
and  he  was  bidden,  as  of  old,  to  strip  off 
his  shirt  of  mail  and  engage  in  a  wrestling 
match  with  a  burly  ambassador  from  one  of 
the  provinces,  who  had  been  boasting  of  his 
muscle. 

It  was  a  short  encounter.  Restored  cour- 
age and  anticipation  made  Hector  invincible 
that  morning,  and  he  soon  had  the  aston- 
ished Bithynian  upon  his  back,  with  one 
knee  pinning  him  to  the  floor,  while  the 
banqueting  chamber  rang  with  applause. 

"  Well  done,  Hector!"  cried  Nero  heartily. 
"  I  told  you  he  would  win,  Tigellinus!  There 
is  a  trick  he  has  that  only  an  Olympionic 
knows,  and  it  is  a  sure  throw  every  time." 

"  I  would  like  well  to  see  him  try  it  on 
Anisavchus,"  remarked  the  favorite  gloom- 
ily, for  he  had  lost  a  heavy  wager.  "  He  is 
simply  unapproachable." 

"  Oh.  you  mean  the  gladiator?"  asked  an- 
other. "  He  is  certainly  a  remarkable 
wrestler.  Has  he  ever  been  vanquished?" 

"  No,  and  he  has  been  matched  against  a 
score,  at  least,  of  trained  men  from  every 
country.  Such  muscles!  Such  long,  power- 
ful arms!  They  say  his  grip  is  like  that  of 
a  steel  vise." 

Thus  they  talked  on,  but  Hector,  being  dis- 
missed with  a  gift,  heard  no  more,  ami 
thought  little  of  the  matter,  for  what  likeli- 
hood was  there  that  he  would  ever  meet 
this  famed  wrestler,  who  was  a  condemned 
criminal,  only  saved  alive,  so  far,  by  the 
downturned  thumbs  of  the  populace  who  de- 
lighted in  his  prowess! 

As  our  centurion  passed  outside  the  palace 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PH1LIPPL 


95 


gates  into  the  street  he  heard  his  name 
called,  and  looked  around  to  see  one  of  his 
guards  hastening  towards  him,  who,  after 
saluting,  placed  in  his  hand  an  order.  It 
was  signed  by  Burrhus,  and  bade  him  take 
personal  superintendence  of  a  Jewish 
prisoner  lately  arrived  in  Rome,  who,  being 
free-born  and  notable,  had  been  permitted 
to  remain  in  his  own  hired  house,  well 
guarded.  Hector  was  further  ordered  to 
detail  a  certain  number  of  soldiers  to  relieve 
each  other  in  being  chained  to  the  prisoner, 
and,  in  fine,  to  keep  him  with  discretion  and 
care,  after  the  usual  manner. 

He  hastened  immediately  to  the  desig- 
nated street,  and  was  soon  in  the  presence 
of  Paul,  whom  he  at  once  recognized  as  his 
own  fellow-prisoner  in  the  past,  for  whom 
an  earthquake  shock  had  wrought  a  miracle. 

Hector  treated  the  illustrious  prisoner 
with  marked  respect,  exchanging  courteous 
remarks  upon  the  strange  and  varied  events 
which  had  brought  them  together  once  more, 
then  the  centurion  asked  if  there  was  any- 
thing he  could  do  to  further  the  Apostle's 
comfort  during  his  enforced  confinement. 
But  Paul  had  no  complaints  nor  requests  to 
make  concerning  food,  warmth,  or  personal 
comfort  of  any  description;  only  two  favors 
he  begged  —  papyrus,  stylus,  and  ink,  that 
he  might  write  to  his  beloved  brethren  in 
the  church;  and  the  permission  to  call  to- 
gether the  Jews  of  the  city,  that  he  might 
personally  address  them  upon  the  subject  of 
the  Christ  These  requests  Hector  at  once 
granted,  and,  giving  strict  orders  that  the 
Apostle  should  be  indulged  in  every  reason- 
able desire,  he  left  a  detail  to  guard  him, 
and,  bidding  him  a  courteous  good-morning, 
took  his  way  to  the  house  of  Salome,  to  tell 
her  of  his  renewed  favor  at  court  and  (what 
he  supposed  would  be  news)  all  about  the 
arrival  of  Paul  the  Apostle,  as  a  prisoner 
who  had  appealed  unto  Caesar  for  trial. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

AN  IMPERIAL,  COMPACT. 

THE  new  prisoners,  with  the  exception 
of    Paul   and    his   special    companion, 
Aristarchus,    were    consigned    to    the 
dungeons  of  the  forum,  two  of  the  largest 
cells  being  given  them,   with  an   unlocked 
door  of  communication   between.    Here  all 
the    men    were    confined,    while    the    two 


women,  Eunice  and  Elizabeth,  were  placed 
in  a  smaller  cell  not  far  away. 

This  prison  was  in  charge  of  an  official 
well  known  to  Hector,  Euphrastus  by  name, 
and  as  the  former  came  from  his  interview 
with  Salome,  who  had  told  him  all  about  the 
Christian  prisoners,  he  was  pleased  to  see 
the  man  lounging  on  the  steps  of  the  judg- 
ment hall. 

"  Peace  to  you!"  cried  Hector,  showing  his 
pleasure  frankly.  "  You  are  the  very  one 
I  desired  to  see.  I  have  in  mind  a  favor  to 
ask  of  you." 

"The  gods  keep  you!"  returned  Euphras- 
tus. "But  what  is  the  favor,  pray?  You 
know  it  will  be  granted,  if  in  my  power." 

"Thanks,  friend!  It  is  not  one  that  will 
greatly  strain  your  generosity.  You  have  a 
new  batch  of  prisoners,  I  learn,  and  they 
are  Christians." 

"  Right  as  usual.  Hector!" 

"  Well,  then,  I  simply  have  a  curiosity  to 
see  them.  Cannot  you  let  me  accompany 
you  upon  your  rounds  this  morning?" 

"  Noon,  you  might  say,  for  the  sun  is  high. 
However,  I  have  been  slow  about  the  in- 
spection this  morning  on  account  of  some 
fresh  orders  I  was  awaiting.  As  to  your 
accompanying  me— well,  it  is  not  strictly 
allowable,  but— what  is  your  interest  in 
these  people,  forsooth?" 

"  Curiosity,"  was  the  prompt  reply. 

"  I  see.  You  have  heard  of  their  obnoxious 
practices.  Queer,  too,  for  I  find  them  as 
docile  as  could  be  desired.  They  do  nothing 
worse — that  I  can  discover — than  to  sing  and 
pray  together.  I  have  seen  no  bloodthirsti- 
ness  in  them,  and  they  give  me  no  trouble 
whatever.  Yes,  come  with  me;  I  am  going 
down  now  to  number  them  out." 

"For  what?"  asked  Hector  quickly. 

"Have  you  not  heard?  They  are  to  be 
sacrificed  in  the  games  at  the  amphitheatre, 
at  the  celebration  of  Poppoea's  birthday.  So 
many  to  the  beasts,  so  many  for  the  naval 
combat,  and  the  rest  to  fight  with  gladi- 
ators." 

"  But  the  women?"  cried  Hector  in  horror. 

"Who  told  you  there  were  women?"  asked 
Euphrastus,  turning  upon  him  suspiciously. 

"  My  sister,  the  wife  of  Cleotas.  She  has 
been  permitted  by  Burrhus  to  visit  them." 

The  answer  seemed  satisfactory.  "  They 
will  doubtless  be  portioned  to  the  wild 
beasts."  was  the  careless  reply.  "  I  have  no 
orders  for  them  so  far.  but  as  they  cannot 
fight,  what  other  disposal  could  be  made  of 
them?" 


96 


THE  WBESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPL 


Hector  did  not  answer,  and  the  official 
went  on  relating  incidents  peculiar  to  his 
profession.  In  this  friendly  fashion  they 
entered  the  wide  corridor  beside  the  judg- 
ment hall,  and  at  its  end  descended  the 
stairs  which  led  downwards  by  successive 
flights  far  underground.  Once  there  they 
pursued  a  somewhat  rambling  course 
through  the  network  of  passages  undermin- 
ing the  great  building.  At  intervals 
Euphrastus  stopped  to  fit  a  key  into  a  lock, 
open  a  heavy  door,  and  thrust  his  head 
within  a  cell  in  which  Hector,  glancing  over 
his  shoulder,  caught  dim  glimpses  of  some 
haggard  being  crouching  in  the  quiet  of 
despair.  At  length  at  his  word,  "  Here  are 
the  Christians!"  Hector  awoke  to  animation, 
and  looked  eagerly  as  the  door  swung  wide, 
for  while  the  two  approached  a  murmur  of 
tuneful  melody  reached  their  ears  and  he 
knew  that,  after  their  happy  custom,  these 
men  were  singing  hymns  of  comfort  and 
good  cheer. 

The  music  ceased  as  the  door  creaked 
rustily  on  its  hinges,  and  every  eye  was 
directed  towards  it  from  within,  for  no  one 
confined  there  knew  at  what  moment  the 
summons  might  come — the  summons  to 
trial,  perhaps;  more  likely  to  death  without 
a  hearing.  By  the  light  of  the  lamp  in  his 
guide's  hand  Hector  let  his  eye  run  over  the 
group  before  him.  He  saw  grave,  self-con- 
trolled, intelligent  faces,  worn  with  the  long 
journey  and  privations,  but  neither  wretched 
nor  desperate.  On  many,  indeed,  was  a 
smile  of  absolute  brightness,  and  on  all  an 
expression  of  security  and  peace  marvelous 
to  behold  in  such  a  place. 

As  he  gazed,  noting  all  this  with  an  eye 
trained  to  observation  of  human  nature,  an- 
other man  came  in  from  the  adjoining  cell, 
his  chains  clanking  as  he  made  his  difficult 
way  along.  He  was  younger  than  the  rest, 
with  a  face  and  form  such  as  sculptors 
choose  when  they  would  embody  their 
choicest  creations.  Now  browned,  bearded, 
and  somewhat  bent  with  the  heavy  fetters 
as  he  was,  he  still  showed  the  manly  beauty 
which  had  always  made  him  notable. 

As  Hector  devoured  this  youth  with  in- 
quiring glances,  his  own  face  quite  con- 
cealed beneath  his  helmet's  visor,  the  latter 
looked  straight  at  him  with  large,  honest 
eyes,  in  which  was  the  old  boyish  expres- 
sion, unmistakable  to  one  who  had  loved 
him  so  well.  Hector  was  almost  betrayed 
into  a  cry  of  recognition,  for  he  knew  the 
prisoner  to  be  his  longed-for  brother,  Ilerk- 


las!  It  was  all  the  soldier,  trained  to  ab- 
solute self-control,  could  do  to  stand  there 
like  a  statue,  when  his  whole  soul  was  cry- 
ing out  in  fond  welcome,  when  his  arms 
twitched  to  enfold  the  boy  he  had  cherished 
from  babyhood,  when  his  eyes  ached  with 
the  tears  welling  into  them,  and  his  throat 
with  the  sobs  he  must  suppress.  He  had  no 
eyes,  no  thought,  for  any  one  else,  and  he 
waited  with  a  passionate  desire  to  hear  this 
prisoner's  voice,  knowing  that  evidence 
would  be  conclusive. 

Euphrastus,  meanwhile,  had  drawn  forth 
his  tablets  and  stylus,  and  was  calling  each 
by  number— for  a  Roman  prisoner  dropped 
his  name  with  his  liberty— and  marshalling 
them  side  by  side  along  the  opposite  wall. 
Hector,  standing  motionless  and  absorbed 
just  within  the  locked  door,  was  to  them 
but  a  Praetorian  guard  on  duty.  They  at- 
tributed to  him  a  heart,  as  well  as  garments, 
of  steel,  and  thought  that  with  cold,  un- 
moved eyes  he  was  gazing  through  the 
holes  of  his  visor,  alert  only  to  quell  any 
disturbance.  How  could  one  of  them  have 
imagined  that  behind  that  shii-t  of  mail  the 
heart  was  beating  to  suffocation,  behind  the 
closed  visor  the  face  was  working  with  ten- 
derness, and  that  the  shaded  eyes  were 
swimming  in  tears! 

"  Number  Seven!"  called  Euphrastus;  and 
the  youngest  prisoner  answered  clearly, 
"  Here!"  as  he  took  his  place  in  line. 

It  was  enough— Hector  knew!  The  boy  of 
his  own  raising,  the  lad  for  whom  he  had 
labored  like  a  father,  the  brother  who  had 
been  cherished  in  his  inmost  heart,  was 
here— a  Christian,  and  doomed  to  a  horrible 
death! 

A  groan  welled  up  from  his  tortured  soul, 
but  died  upon  his  lips.  He  dared  not  give 
it  sound.  The  dim  and  crowded  cell  swam 
before  him,  but  he  moved  not.  Roman  disci- 
pline quelled  his  weakness,  and  kept  him 
the  grim,  silent  sentinel,  though  faint  with 
feeling. 

The  numbering  continued  till  all  were 
crowded  about  the  three  walls  of  the  narrow 
room,  and  Hector,  gradually  conquering  his 
first  agony  of  recognition,  grew  intensely 
interested  in  the  scene,  noticing  that  while 
all  looked  expectant  and  some  curious,  not 
one  but  was  serenely  courageous  in  bearing. 
Euphrastus,  holding  his  lantern  high,  looked 
them  all  over  carefully,  then  once  more  con- 
sulted his  tablets.  After  an  interval  he 
slowly  called  the  even  numbers,  and  bade 
them  stand  forth  from  the  rest.  They  did 


so,  and  the  keeper  noted  them  down  with 
accuracy. 

"These,"  he  whispered  to  the  silent  Hec- 
tor at  his  side,  "  are  for  the  naval  battle." 

Next  he  called  the  odd  numbers.  There 
being  eleven  prisoners  in  all,  there  was  one 
more  of  these  than  of  the  even.  He  noted 
them  as  beiore,  with  the  whisper: 

"  These  are  for  the  beasts." 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHI  LI  PPL  97 

"  Let  me  select  the  men,  my  Euphrastus! 


I  was  once  skilled  in  the  training  of  the 
arena,  and  we  would  fain  make  these  com- 
bats interesting." 

"True!"  answered  the  keeper,  well 
pleased.  "Then  give  us  your  judgment, 
friend.  I  doubt  not  it  will  be  far  better  than 
my  own." 

Hector,     thus    permitted,     ran    his    eyes 


"Number  Seven!"  called  Euphrastus;  and  the  youngest  prisoner  answered  clearly, 
as  he  took  his  place  in  line.— See  page  96. 


'Here!" 


Hector  repressed  a  shudder.  Herklas  was 
Number  Seven!  There  would  have  been  a 
chance  for  him  in  the  naval  combat,  for  he 
could  swim— there  was  none  here!  But 
Euphrastus  went  on: 

"  I  am  to  select  two  out  of  this  greater 
number  as  gladiators;  one  for  the  net,  and 
one  to  be  done  to  death  by  Auisarchus,  the 
champion  wrestler." 

A  sudden  inspiration  came  to  Hector, 
hardly  denned  as  yet,  but  bringing  a  ray  of 
hope.  He  whispered  back  eagerly: 


quickly  over  the  group.  One  of  the  men- 
Number  Three— was  thin,  long-legged,  and 
wiry. 

"Take  him  for  the  net-throwing,"  he  mur- 
mured; and  Euphrastus,  with  a  laugh  and 
admiring  oath,  at  once  approved. 

Hector's  second  choice  seemed  to  take  him 
longer.  He  scrutinized  each  more  than  once, 
but  at  length  appeared  satisfied. 

"  Let  the  opponent  of  Anisarchus  be  Num- 
ber Seven,"  he  said  in  a  voice  hoarse  almost 
to  extinction. 


98 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHILIP  PI. 


"Jove!  That  slender,  beautiful  youth? 
He  will  be  crushed  like  a  mouse  in  the  jaws 
of  a  cat." 

"  Be  not  so  sure,  friend.  He  is  quick  and 
muscular.  It  will  be  at  least  a  livelier  bat- 
tle than  if  any  of  these  older  men,  with 
stiffened  sinews  and  slow  movements,  were 
chosen.  Indeed,  I  feel  more  and  more  satis- 
fied with  my  choice." 

Hector's  hoarseness  and  agitation  had  dis- 
appeared. He  seemed  almost  gay.  What- 
ever his  sudden  resolution,  it  gave  him  cour- 
age and  hope,  and  after  they  left  the  cell, 
while  ascending  to  the  upper  air,  he  was  so 
talkative  and  merry  as  to  keep  the  other  in 
a  roar  of  laughter. 

They  separated  the  best  of  friends, 
Euphrastus  vowing  his  self-elected  helper 
a  good  fellow;  and  when  the  latter  said 
carelessly,  at  parting,  "  I  may  want  to  take 
another  look  at  my  gladiators  sometime." 
the  keeper  answered  heartily,  "  Whenever 
you  wish,  comi'ade!" 

But  the  instant  he  was  alone  Hector  gave 
way.  Seeking  a  secluded  bench  in  the  pub- 
lic gardens  near  by— a  rustic  seat  embow- 
ered in  a  jasmine  vine,  making  a  shrine  to 
Minerva— he  threw  himself  down  upon  it, 
and  clasping  his  arms  over  the  back,  bent 
his  head  upon  them  and  groaned  aloud. 

"  My  brother!  My  little  Herklas!"  he  mur- 
mured in  a  voice  thrilled  with  tenderness, 
while  wave  after  wave  of  recollection  rolled 
over  him.  until  his  heart  grew  weak  with 
the  strain. 

Long  he  sat  thus,  great  sobs  racking  his 
frame  as  he  wavered  betwixt  the  joy  of  once 
more  seeing  his  brother  and  the  torture  of 
such  a  meeting. 

"Do  I  find  you  only  to  lose  you  again?" 
he  groaned.  "  Oh,  God  of  the  Christians, 
hear  and  help  me  in  this  extremity!  Thou 
hast  shown  me  my  brother— help  me  to  save 
him!  Give  me  Caesar's  ear,  O  gracious 
Lord,  that  he  may  grant  my  request;  and 
fill  me  with  Thine  own  invincible  strength 
in  this  encounter,  that  Herklas  may  be 
saved  a  cruel  death.  For  Christ's  sake!" 

He  rose,  calm  and  strong,  and  returned  to 
his  duties,  uplifted  by  a  purpose  that  domi- 
nated all  lesser  thoughts,  and  a  consecration 
to  Christ  that,  in  spite  of  grief  and  fear, 
brought  him  a  certain  bliss  and  comfort 
which  no  earthly  woes  could  take  away.  It 
needed  but  little  reflection  to  convince  him 
that  it  was  best  not  to  tell  Salome  what  he 
knew.  Why  rack  her  with  his  own  torture? 
Already  she  was  sufficiently  grieved  over 


her  friend  Elizabeth;  why  add  to  this  a  still 
more  bitter  trouble?  No,  she  had  long  since 
given  up  Herklas  as  lost.  Let  her  remain 
in  calm  unconsciousness  of  his  presence  and 
give  all  her  energies  to  her  dear  friend. .  She 
could  not  save  Herklas;  he  might.  If  he 
did,  there  would  be  a  glad  reunion,  indeed; 
if  he  did  not— then  let  her  never  know  the 
awful  truth. 

Hector  at  once  began  laying  his  train  of 
operations.  By  a  little  diplomacy,  easy  now 
that  he  wns  in  favor,  he  managed  to  be 
detailed,  with  some  of  his  men,  for  special 
guard-duty  in  the  palace.  Once  there,  he 
was  careful  to  take  up  his  own  station, 
every  evening,  in  the  corridor  leading  to 
Nero's  private  apartments,  and,  as  he  ex- 
pected, found  it  often  devolved  upon  him 
to  assist  the  royal  inebriate  to  bed  after  the 
late  suppers.  Once  or  twice,  when  the  Em- 
peror was  not  too  stupid  with  wine,  he 
recognized  the  wrestler  and  had  him  in  for 
a  friendly  bout  with  the  gloves,  as  he  felt 
his  muscles  needed  hardening,  and  at  these 
times  Hector  managed  adroitly  to  introduce 
the  name  of  Anisarchus,  and,  if  possible, 
excite  both  Nero  and  his  favorites  into  talk- 
ing and  laying  wagers  over  the  wrestler's 
powers. 

It  was  evident  that  Nero,  for  some  reason, 
chose  to  depreciate  the  champion's  fame, 
and  he  frankly  said  more  than  once  that  he 
would  like  to  see  the  swaggerer  beaten,  for 
he  was  growing  altogether  too  pompous  over 
his  repeated  successes.  Evidently  Nero  did 
not  enjoy  pomposity  in  any  one  but  himself! 

At  length  an  evening  came  when  Hector 
was  summoned,  as  usual,  and  this  sort  of 
talk  ran  high.  Presently  Burrhus,  who  was 
present,  remarked  absently: 

"  Well,  whether  or  not  the  man  is  all  he 
claims  to  be,  he  will  have  an  easy  victory, 
at  least,  at  our  Ctrsar's  games  next  month." 

"  Why,  how  is  that?"  asked  Lucan  the 
poet. 

"  Because  one  of  the  condemned  Chris- 
tians is  to  be  pitted  against  him.  a  young, 
slender,  handsome  fellow  of  Macedonia. 
He  will  be  like  a  kid  in  the  grasp  of  a  moun- 
tain bear!" 

Hector  did  not  look  up.  nor  start  even. 
He  held  himself  with  iron  steadiness  and 
listened. 

"  Too  bad  it  could  not  be  a  more  even 
combat!"  yawned  Tigellinns  from  his  couch. 
"  I  would  like  to  see  a  real  wrestler  stand 
up  against  him." 

"  Yes,   one  like  our  good  Hector,   for  in- 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


99 


stance,"  added  the  Emperor  graciously.  "  If 
only  he  were  in  training,  now,  he  might  give 
the  boaster  something  to  do — eh,  my  cen- 
turion?" 

Hector  bowed  low.  "  The  noble  Caesar  is 
too  flattering,  but  "—he  hesitated  one  in- 
stant, then  plunged  on,  his  heart  beating 
wildly,  but  with  determination  on  his  face 
and  a  prayer  in  his  soul—"  but  if  our  Em- 
peror would  wish  to  see  his  servant  meet 
the  champion  wrestler,  it  is  in  his  power  to 
command  it." 

Nero  was  pleased.  Anything  that  re- 
minded him  of  his  high  estate  was  incense 
in  his  nostrils.  He  turned  upon  the  in- 
wardly-shaken Hector  with  a  smile. 

"  Ca?sar  has  too  much  regard  for  his  loyal 
soldiers  "—he  emphasized  the  word  "  loyal  " 
significantly—"  to  condemn  them  to  the 
mutilation  and  disgrace  of  the  arena.  He 
leaves  that  to  captives,  criminals,  and 
slaves,  who  are  condemned,  or  who  will- 
ingly risk  all  for  money.  You  know  such  a 
trial  of  strength  is  to  the  death." 

"  I  know,  O  Csesar!"  Hector  drew  in  his 
breath  hard.  "  Yet  to  please  my  lord  I 
would  gladly  risk  all.  In  fact,  though  he 
may  think  me  a  fool  for  my  temerity,  I  will 
willingly  meet  this  Anisarchus  in  the  place 
of  the  Christian  prisoner,  and  it  shall  be  a 
combat  to  the  death.  But  if  I  conquer  I 
ask  one  reward— that  Ca?sar  give  me  for 
mine  own  the  handsome  young  captive 
whose  place  I  take  in  the  arena." 

It  was  said.  Hector,  bowing  to  the 
ground,  felt  the  room  whirl  around  him 
amid  a  confused  clamor  of  laughter  and 
band-clapping.  Then  Csesar  spoke,  and  all 
stopped  to  listen. 

"  So  you  long  for  a  slave  of  your  own, 
Hector?  And  more,  for  a  good-looking  one. 
How  the  lowly  do  love  to  ape  their  masters! 
But  what  would  you  with  this  slave,  when 
the  soldiers  under  you  are  at  your  lightest 
beck?" 

Hector  smiled.  "I  cannot  beat  them, 
Csesar." 

"True  enough!  And  that  is  a  satisfaction, 
I  own.  Well,  so  be  it.  But  I  fear  I  will  lose 
a  good  soldier  by  the  exchange.  You  are 
not  in  training.  Hector." 

"  There  are  three  weeks  yet,  O  Cnesar,  and 
I  have  been  daily  attending  the  gymnasium, 
for  some  time.  Pray  let  me  try,  under  the 
conditions." 

"That  you  get  the  slave?  Oh,  yes,  take 
him  by  all  means— if  you  live  through  St- 
and beat  this  Christian  nonsense  out  of  him. 


That  will  be  good  practice  for  your 
muscles!" 

"  I  have  Coosar's  word?"  asked  Hector 
once  more,  knowing  so  well  the  tyrant's 
changeable  moods  that  ho  dreaded  trusting 
to  them  in  so  important  a  matter. 

"Assuredly;  here  are  my  witnesses  and — 
but  wait!  You  have  a  stylus  and  papyrus, 
Lucan — I  see  them  thrust  into  your  girdle. 
Come  now,  draw  us  up  a  compact  in  verse, 
can  you  not?  Let  us  see  what  you  can  do  as 
poet  and  lawyer  combined." 

Lucan,  flushing  uncomfortably,  could  not 
refuse,  though  he  felt  the  task  beyond  him; 
and  while  Hector  stood  by,  outwardly  the 
impassive  soldier,  inwardly  the  fearful, 
supplicating  brother,  Lucan  wrote  busily, 
the  rest  looking  on  with  faces  full  of  merry 
curiosity. 

To  these  it  was  but  a  break  In  the 
monotony  of  their  splendid  feasting;  to  the 
other  it  was  an  hour  upon  the  rack.  At 
length  the  poet  looked  up  with  a  sigh  of  re- 
lief. "  It  is  written,  noble  Caesar,  but  I  fear 
it  is  neither  poetic,  nor  clerkly." 

"  If  only  it  will  hold!"  murmured  Hector 
almost  involuntarily. 

"Never  mind!"  laughed  Nero,  unheeding 
the  low-spoken  words.  "  I  suppose  it  will 
be  just  as  binding  if  I  put  my  seal  to  it. 
Read,  Lucan!" 

And  Hector  breathed  again. 

The  embarrassed  poet  was  doubtless  right 
in  his  opinion  of  the  document.  It  might 
not,  perhaps,  have  stood  in  any  court,  but 
Nero  was  his  own  court,  and  respected 
nothing  save  his  own  seal  and  signature. 
Freely  translated,  it  read  as  follows: 

"  This  compact  holds  'twixt  parties  two: 
Primus,  the  great  Imperator, 
Nero  Claudius  Drusus,  who 
Rules  all  the  earth  in  peace  and  war; 
Secundus,  Hector,  known  to  men 
As  of  the  guards  Praetorian, 
And  honored  with  the  rank  and  claim 
Of  Celeres,  centurion. 
Hector,  secundus,  here  agrees 
To  meet  in  combat  to  the  death 
The  far-famed  Anisarchus.  who 
Is  champion  wrestler— so  he  saith. 
And  should  said  Hector,  in  fair  fight. 
Twice  throw  this  man  and  still  endure, 
Great  Csesar,  primus,  promiseth 
Above  his  seal  and  signature 
This  guerdon,  namely :  That  the  man 
To  Anisarchus  doomed  before 
Be  given  Hector  as  his  own, 
To  have  and  hold  for  evermore." 

The  reading  was  greeted  with  shouts  of 


100 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPPL 


laughter  and  merry  jests,  Nero's  sounding 
above  all  the  rest,  as  he  cried: 

"You  are  right,  Lucan!  It  would  stand 
in  neither  law  nor  literature,  but  it  may  in 
Caesar's  will.  Come,  I  will  sign  it." 

Instantly  a  slave  stepped  forward  and 
bent  over  to  form  a  table  of  his  broad  back, 
while  another  brought  ink,  wax,  and  stylus. 
Hector  watched  breathlessly  as  the  royal 
name  was  affixed,  the  melted  wax  dropped 
upon  the  papyrus,  and  the  royal  ring 
pressed  into  its  molten  substance  for  a  seal. 

"  Here,  it  is  yours  to  keep,"  said  Nero, 
flinging  it  carelessly  in  Hector's  direction. 
"  Caesar  needs  no  reminders  to  carry  out  his 
promises.  Take  it,  and  do  your  part,  or  it 
will  be  the  worse  for  you.  I  wish  to  see  a 
really  decent  match.  Go!" 

Hector,  bowing  low,  withdrew,  the  parch- 
ment grasped  in  his  palm,  but  when  he  was 
alone  in  the  outer  corridor  he  raised  it  to 
heaven  in  his  right  hand,  and  looked  up 
reverently,  as  he  murmured: 

"  Now  the  God  of  the  Christians 
strengthen  this  good  right  arm,  and  you 
shall  be  mine,  my  brother!" 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 
A  VAGABOND  BEFORE  THE  MAGISTRATE. 

IT  was  fifteen  days  later  and  nearing  noon. 
A  small  group  in  earnest  discourse  was 
gathered  in  the  peristyle  of  the  palace  of 
Aulus  Clotius.  One  was  the  prsetor  himself, 
and  the  others  were  Pamphylia  his  mother, 
and  his  fair  wife,  Julia.  They  were  talking 
over  his  recent  promotion  (as  he  esteemed  it) 
to  the  generalship  of  a  legion  of  the  Celeres, 
or  royal  troops,  and  what  it  doubtless  por- 
tended—his soon  being  ordered  to  Gaul  to 
quell  a  mutinous  uprising  there,  which 
threatened  to  be  serious. 

"If  only  we  could  go  too!"  said  Pam- 
phylia, sadly.  "  It  is  so  trying  waiting  for 
news  by  the  slow  couriers,  and  I  am  sure 
something  has  happened  to  you  if  the  de- 
spatches are  at  all  delayed.  Oh,  the  hardest 
part  of  war  is  the  women's  part!" 

"  Yes,"  said  Julia,  coming  to  her  hus- 
band's side,  and  throwing  an  arm  about  his 
neck,  "  and  mother's  fears  make  mine  all 
the  greater.  But  you  will  not  go  till  after 
tne  birthday  celebrations?" 

"  No,  I  shall  stay  for  those.  I  must  see 
Hector  through  this  mad  freak  of  his.  I 


cannot  think  what  has  come  over  him  to 
insist  upon  trying  his  strength  with  that 
burly  Anisarchus,  and  for  so  paltry  a  con- 
sideration— one  slave!  Surely  he  has  the 
means  to  buy  himself  a  servant;  and  if  not, 
I  would  gladly  have  given  him  a  man  out 
of  my  first  consignment  of  captives.  But  he 
will  not  listen  to  my  arguments  or  promises, 
nor  will  he  fully  explain  his  motives.  There 
must  be  something  more  than  this  silly  de- 
sire to  acquire  human  property.  Sometimes 
I  think  the  old  wrestling  fever  has  pos- 
sessed him— as  my  war  fever  now  and  then 
dominates  me  in  times  of  peace,  until  all 
my  veins  are  in  a  turmoil  of  hot  blood— and 
that  he  can  no  longer  control  it.  He  is  ready 
to  risk  death,  even,  to  prove  once  more  his 
own  powers." 

"  That  is  what  Celeste  thinks,"  returned 
Julia.  "  Even  her  pleadings  do  not  move 
him— fight  he  will  and  must!" 

"  Mayhap  his  sister's  interest  in  the 
prisoners  has  awakened  his,"  said  Pam- 
phylia thoughtfully;  "and  from  what  I  hear 
of  these  Christians,  now,  the  sect  must  have 
been  greatly  maligned  before.  I  understand 
that  you,  Aulus,  have  been  exerting  yourself 
to  clear  this  woman — Elizabeth,  is  her 
name?" 

"  Yes,  to  please  my  old  friend  Gaius,  as 
well  as  Hector  and  his  sister.  Not  only 
Elizabeth,  but  her  companion,  Eunice, 
though  I  hardly  think  the  latter  will  live 
until  next  week.  She  is  failing  rapidly. 
Yes,  I  have  done  my  best  for  them,  but  in 
vain.  There  must  be  plenty  of  victims  for 
the  spectacles,  and  these  cannot  be  spared." 

"  But  women!"  cried  Julia.  "  That  seems 
too  hard!  Men  can  make  a  show  of  defense, 
at  least,  but  with  women  it  is  only 
slaughter." 

"  Nero  loves  slaughter,"  said  Aulus  calmly. 
"  He  fattens  on  it.  What  a  master  to 
serve!"  His  tone  expressed  deep  disgust. 
"  I  have  been  thinking  often,  lately,  of  the 
sentence  that  seems  to  come  naturally  to  the 
lips  of  these  Christians:  '  One  is  my  Mas- 
ter, even  Christ.'  It  would  be  a  happiness 
to  serve  such  a  Leader,  who  called  Himself 
'  friend '  and  '  elder  brother '  to  His  dis- 
ciples. I  sometimes  revolt  at  the  service 
I  give  to  Nero;  I  cannot  help  it!" 

There  was  a  moment's  silence,  then  Julia 
remarked: 

"  I  hear  that  this  man  whose  place  Hector 
takes  has  a  wife  in  the  city  who  is  under 
the  protection  of  a  friend  of  yours;  is  that 
so?" 


THE    WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


"Yes,  this  same  Gains  of  Macedonia— a 
fine  fellow,  too!  He  is  working  with  me  in 
this  matter,  and  seems  deeply  interested. 


101 


ticed  that  he  turned  and  frequently  exam- 
ined my  countenance  in  a  critical  manner. 
Finally  he  said  apologetically,  '  Pardon  me, 


the  ordinary  girdle,  its  fringed  ends 
low   over  the  long  gown.      With   her  dark 
lashes  lying  upon  her  waxen  cheek,  and  her 
arm   softly  pink  against  the  marble's  cold 
whiteness,  she  was  a  vision  of  pensive  love- 
liness. 
The  entrance  of  Pamphylia  and  Julia,  fol- 


Vi         A.        J_T  *  J_T_  *        —  " ** •/    llfl      <**-!U       «J    IIIKI,        IU1~ 

but  there  is  something  about  you  occasion-     lowing  Harold  the  page,  was  so  quiet  that 

Qllir      rna+      y«r*Tv»  Ji-»rlc«      w^  ^      *-»-P      J-V,:«      .  A    „•     j_i_   _ 


ally  that  reminds  me  of  this  very  person 
we  have  been  speaking  of— Agistha,  wife  of 
Number  Seven  in  the  prison.  I  cannot  say 
whether  it  is  your  expression,  manner,  or 
voice— hardly  your  general  complexion,  I 
think,  for  she  is  darker  than  you— but  it  is 
there,  and  unmistakable.'  Naturally  this  in- 
terested me.  Now,  why  do  you  not  both  go 
to  call  upon  the  Lady  ^Enone  and  her 
friend?  Perchance  you,  mother,  can  tell 
whether  it  is  all  imagination  with  Gaius,  or 
not." 

"  We  have  intended  to  go  for  some  time," 
said  Julia.  "  Suppose  we  say  we  will  to- 
morrow, mother— does  that  suit  you?" 

"  Perfectly,  my  child.  To-morrow  let  it 
be." 

The  next  afternoon  was  very  warm,  and 
Agistha,  worn  out  with  grief,  left  her  baby 
sleeping  and  strolled  into  the  peristyle, 
where  the  fountain  was  playing  to  freshen 
the  air.  She  had  heard  of  the  man  who  had, 
strangely  enough,  bargained  for  her  hus- 
band's life  by  the  risk  of  his  own.  But  she 
knew  nothing  of  him,  except  that  he  was  a 
centurion,  and  she  spent  hours  in  vain 
imaginings  as  to  the  outcome  of  the  matter. 
If  the  soldier  won,  Herklas  would  be  a 
slave — and  she? 

"  I  shall  beg  to  follow  him,"  she  told  her- 
self with  loyal  determination.  "  I  must  be 
with  my  husband,  even  in  slavery!"  But 
she  dared  not  let  herself  hope  too  freely,  for 
what  if  the  man  should  fail? 

She  was  dreaming  thus  to-day  as  she  sat 
in  her  loose  robe,  leaning  gracefully  against 
the  stone  rim  which  encircled  the  basin  of 
the  fountain.  One  slender,  sandaled  foot 
was  bracing  the  inclined  body,  and  one 
bare,  round  arm  was  thrown  against  the 
marble  rampart  for  her  cheek  to  rest 
against. 

She  wore  no  jewels  in  her  grief.  Her  loose 
curls  of  dark  hair  were  confined  only  by  a 
triplicate  bandeau  of  silver  cord  gleaming 
amid  its  soft  duskiness.  The  loose  tunic,  of 
an  amethyst  shade,  was  bound  to  her  slim 
body  by  crossed  ribbons  of  the  deeper  hue 
of  purple  verging  upon  crimson,  replacing 


Agistha  was  not  at  first  aroused  from  her 
deep  reverie,  and  the  older  lady  had  time  to 
think,  "  How  charming!"  while  the  younger, 
after  one  glance,  turned  with  a  hasty  whis- 
per: 

"  Why,  mother,  she  is  your  very  image, 
only  younger!" 

The  little  rustle  they  made  aroused 
Agistha,  and  she  sprang  to  her  feet  with  a 
courteous  welcome,  as  Harold  spoke  their 
names.  But  while  she  greeted  the  elder 
lady  the  eyes  of  both  lingered  in  meeting, 
and  each  felt  so  drawn  to  the  other  that  it 
was  difficult  to  keep  the  salutation  within 
the  bounds  of  conventionality.  When 
JEnone  appeared  the  three  were  conversing 
without  a  break,  and  almost  before  she  had 
greeted  the  guests,  her  eyes  flashed  from 
the  Roman  matron  of  noble  blood  to  her 
own  loved  but  humble  companion;  but, 
though  she  checked  the  exclamation  that 
sprang  to  her  lips,  Julia  had  noticed  the 
glance  and  broke  out  in  her  lively  fashion: 
"You  see  it,  too,  do  you  not?  They  are 
enough  alike  to  be  mother  and  daughter!" 

Pamphylia  looked  at  Agistha  with  a  sweet 
wistfulness,  which  made  the  other's  cheeks 
flush  with  .  pleasure.  She  longed  to  throw 
herself  at  the  dear  old  lady's  feet,  even  as 
the  latter  could  scarcely  keep  from  crying 
out,  "Come  and  kiss  me,  my  child!"  and 
while  -.Enone  and  Julia  exclaimed,  the 
others  drew  closer  in  soul. 

The  call  was  prolonged  to  an  unusual 
length,  and  the  four  separated,  at  last, 
with  mutual  promises  of  future  meetings, 
though  amid  the  courtesies  Agistha's  face 
grew  somber— what  future  was  there  for 
her? 

"  It  is  really  wonderful,  mother!"  cried 
Julia,  as  they  entered  their  waiting  cisium, 
or  light  cabriolet,  drawn  by  two  perfectly 
matched  mules  and  driven  by  a  tiny 
Nubian.  "  She  has  your  voice,  even,  not  to 
speak  of  that  flower-like  droop  of  the  neck, 
and  that  sudden  upward  honest  gaze  into 
one's  eyes  whenever  directly  addressed.  It 
put  me  in  a  sort  of  daze  to  watch  you  both, 
and  see  the  similarity.  Are  you  sure  she 
does  not  belong  to  some  branch  of  your 


102 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


house,  and  has  thus  inherited  a  few  of  the 
family  traits?" 

Parnphylia  smiled.  "  Would  it  were  so!  I 
confess  I  was  strongly  drawn  to  her,  but  I 
have  the  impression  that  she  is  a  Mace- 
donian, and  none  of  our  family  are  found 
there,  you  know.  It  is,  I  suppose,  only  one 
of  those  freaks  of  nature  which  sometimes 
make  two  people,  even  of  different  nation- 
alities, so  marvellously  alike  as  to  deceive 
their  nearest  friends.  Really,  the  wonder  is 
that  there  are  not  more  such  resemblances. 
Think  of  the  limited  number  of  features  we 
all  possess— a  nose,  a  mouth,  two  eyes— and 
the  millions  of  creatures  who  bear  them, 
and  yet  we  are  astonished  when  any  two 
closely  resemble  each  other!" 

Julia  laughed.  "  What  a  philosopher  you 
are,  mother!  But  it  is  marvelous,  now  you 
remind  me  of  it — this  diversity  in  similarity. 
Surely  the  gods  must  give  deep  thought  to 
their  work,  and  have  great  unity  in  plan.  I 
wonder  at  it,  too.  for  thei'e  are  so  many,  and 
they  are  so  full  of  their  own  affairs,  it 
would  scarcely  seem  as  if  they  could  have 
any  time  left  for  us." 

"  Doubtless  they  divide  the  cares,  as  the 
honors,"  returned  Pamphylia,  then  lapsed 
into  thoughtful  silence,  as  she  often  did 
when  their  beliefs  were  discussed,  for  there 
were  many  things  which  puzzled — some 
which  revolted — her  in  the  worship  of  the 
day.  Though  by  nature  loyal  to  both  "  king 
and  creed,"  her  better  sense  told  her  that 
many  practices  were  far  from  being  worthy 
the  purity  of  her  regard,  and  this  often  fal- 
tered into  questionings  which  tore  her  heart 
and  burdened  her  conscience. 

The  lively  Julia  was  soon  telling  her  hus- 
band all  about  the  call,  and  speculating 
upon  the  resemblance. 

"  It  is  a  little  odd,  notwithstanding 
mother's  philosophizing,"  he  remarked,  as 
she  finished  her  detailed  account.  "  I  would 
like  to  see  the  lady.  Well,  let  us  hope  that 
poor  Hector  will  win  for  her  sake,  as  well 
as  for  his  own.  He  is  practicing  in  the  gym- 
nasium every  day,  and  seems  confident  and 
happy  enough." 

"  But  the  captive  women!"  cried  Julia. 
"  They  are  doomed." 

"  I  fear  so,"  returned  her  husband  sadly. 
"  Poor  things!  It  is  a  terrible  fate." 

Yet,  in  spite  of  this  sympathy  for  in- 
dividual cases,  both  were  soon  gayly  dis- 
cussing the  choice  of  seats  in  the  amphi- 
theati-e,  for  even  the  best  of  the  Romans 
took  these  degrading,  blood-thirsty  spec- 


tacles as  a  matter  of  course,  and  would  have 
felt  defrauded  could  they  not  have  wit- 
nessed them. 

'ihey  were  in  the  midst  of  lively  conver- 
sation when  a  servant  entered,  bearing  a 
silver  salver  whereon  lay  a  small  tablet  of 
papyrus,  which  he  presented  on  one  knee  to 
his  master.  Aulus  caught  it  up  and  read  It, 
then  turned  to  his  wife. 

"  I  am  summoned  to  the  judgment  hall," 
he  said  briskly.  "  Some  criminal  who 
comes  under  my  jurisdiction  has  been  ap- 
prehended;" and  kissing  her,  he  hurried  out, 
for  he  was  still  acting  as  praetor,  not  yet 
having  received  his  official  discharge. 

He  soon  reached  the  hall,  and  took  his 
seat,  ready  for  his  magistratic  part  in  the 
proceedings.  In  the  prisoner's  enclosure 
stood  a  man  who  wore  the  peculiar  head- 
gear of  a  Phoenician.  He  was  lined  and 
marred  with  dissipation  and  misery,  more 
tnan  with  age,  and  he  looked  both  hungry 
and  wretched.  He  had  been  discovered 
within  the  garden  of  Gaius,  probably  bent 
on  plunder,  and  the  latter  sat  in  one  of  the 
witness  seats  at  the  left,  ready  to  testify 
against  him.  The  praetor  began  his  investi- 
gation with  the  usual  question: 

What  is  your  name?" 

Alois,"  was  the  answer. 

From  Phoenicia?" 

Yes,  sire." 

How  old?" 

Forty-two." 

Free-born,  or  slave?" 

Manumitted  slave." 
Thus  the  examination  proceeded,  the  pris- 
oner testifying  with  an  air  of  desperate 
carelessness,  as  if  it  made  little  difference 
to  him  what  the  outcome  might  be.  He 
seemed  to  have  grown  indifferent  to  his 
own  fate.  When  asked  what  was  his  ob- 
ject in  concealing  himself  in  the  garden  of 
Gaius,  he  smiled  in  a  peculiar  manner  and 
answered  calmly:  "I  wanted  to  see  my 
slave." 

The  cool  reply  produced  a  sensation. 
"  Your  slave?"  cried  Aulus  Clotius.      "  A 
creature  like  you   have  a  slave!    Now  tell 
the  truth,  or  we  shall  be  obliged  to  resort 
to  the  screws." 

The  prisoner  shrugged  his  shoulders. 
"  Nevertheless  it  is  true.  I  owned  a  half- 
share  in  a  slave,  and  this  man,  Gaius,  took 
her  from  me.  She  had  been  gone  many 
years,  but  I  discovered  her  retreat  at  last, 
and  had  the  curiosity  to  see  her  again,  for  I 
had  supposed  her  dead.  I  was  fond  of  her." 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


103 


Gaius  looked  flushed  and  embarrassed 
under  the  glances  cast  upon  him  by  the  look- 
ers-on, as  he  began  to  see  the  significance 
of  this  man's  answers,  and  feared  it  might 
involve  himself  in  much  unpleasantness  and 
Agistha  in  trouble;  for  the  laws  governing 
runaway  slaves  were  severe,  and  here  un- 
doubtedly was  one  of  the  wretched  so-called 
masters  of  that  unhappy  woman.  How  had 
he  found  them  out  after  so  long  an  interval? 
and  how  was  he,  Gaius,  to  explain  the  in- 
tricate affair?  He  felt  that  the  whole  truth 
was  the  best  policy,  and,  rising,  turned 
courteously  to  the  magistrate. 

"  Sir  Praetor,  may  I  address  the  prisoner?" 

"  Assuredly,"  returned  Aulus;  "  but  pray 
keep  to  the  point  at  issue." 

"  I  will,  sire.  What  was  the  name  of  this 
slave  you  claim?"  he  asked  in  a  clear  voice. 

"  Agistha,"  said  the  man. 

Aulus  started,  and  looked  from  one  to  the 
other.  He  recognized  the  name  at  once. 

"Where  and  when  did  you  obtain  her?" 

"  Seventeen  years  ago,  in  Amphipolis  of 
Macedonia." 

"Of  whom?" 

"  I  bought  a  half -interest  in  her  of 
Flavius,  a  Roman." 

"  And  a  galley  slave,"  added  Gaius 
quickly. 

The  man  gave  another  shrug,  and  an- 
swered with  a  sneer: 

"Very  likely.    He  was  none  too  good!" 

Gaius  turneu  to  the  magistrate.  "  Sir 
Praetor,  this  man,  I  believe,  speaks  the 
truth,  but  in  order  to  show  why  I  retain  and 
protect  this  woman,  Agistha,  as  I  believe  in 
right  and  justice,  I  must  tell  you  her  story 
as  I  had  it  from  the  lips  of  Flavius  himself, 
which  I  can  verify  from  writings  on  record 
at  the  judgment  hall  in  Thessalonica,  where 
he  was  tried  under  torture,  found  guilty, 
and  relegated  to  the  galleys." 

Then  in  well-chosen  words  he  related  the 
singular  narrative  of  the  stolen  child.  As 
Aulus  listened,  his  interest  grew  more  and 
more  intense.  He  grasped  the  arm  of  his 
prsetor's  chair  and  gazed  at  the  speaker,  his 
face  paling  and  flushing  with  emotion.  At 
length,  impatient  of  details,  he  called  out 
sharply: 

"  And  this  child— how  old  was  she  when 
stolen?" 

"  About  three,  methinks,"  answered  Alois, 
wondering  at  the  patrician's  manner. 

"  She  could  talk,  could  she  not?  Did  she 
never  give  any  other  name  than  Agistha?" 

"  I  know  not,"  returned  Alois  slowly.    "  I 


did  not  see  her  until  later,  but  I  fancy 
Agistha  was  the  name  Flavius  gave  her. 
However — " 

"Well,  why  do  you  hesitate?" 

"  Because  it  may  be  nothing.  Once  when 
we  were  severely  pressed  for  money  he 
handed  me  a  little  gold  chain  and  charm, 
which  he  said  had  been  hers,  and  bade  me 
erase  the  name  engraved  on  the  pendant, 
so  that  we  might  sell  it.  I  remember  be- 
cause it  took  me  all  day—" 

"  The  name!  The  name!"  shouted  Aulus 
impatiently. 

"  Cleone,"  said  the  man  deliberately. 

Aulus  fell  back  in  his  chair,  pale  to  the 
lips,  while  Gaius,  astonished,  strode  for- 
ward to  his  assistance. 

"  No,"  he  said,  faintly  raising  his  hand, 
"  I  am  not  ill — only— this  child  was  my 
sister!" 

The  announcement  was  met  by  a  stunned 
silence,  which  Gaius  broke. 

"  Are  you  certain,  Sir  Praetor?" 

"  It  must  be  so.  Her  singular  resemblance 
to  our  family,  the  time,  the  circumstances, 
the  name,  the  place— all  convince  me  that 
this  Agistha  is  my  lost  sister,  Cleone,  who 
was  stolen  from  the  peristyle  of  our  palace 
when  an  infant  neariug  four  years." 

He  turned  abruptly  to  the  guards  attend- 
ing the  prisoner.  "Loose  this  man!"  he 
commanded. 

The  order  was  at  once  executed. 

"  Alois,"  he  added,  "  you  are  to  accompany 
the  honorable  Gaius  and  myself  to  his 
house,  that  together  we  may  converse  with 
the  lady  and  see  if  all  your  assertions  are 
true." 

"  But,  Sir  Praotor,"  put  in  Gaius,  "  she 
knows  nothing  of  the  things  concerning  her 
infancy.  We  have  kept  them  from  her— her 
husband,  my  wife,  and  I— lest  they  trouble 
her  mind,  and  she  has  no  memory  of  them." 

"Her  husband!"  At  the  words  Aulus 
turned  with  an  odd  expression.  "  Her  hus- 
band is  the  condemned  Christian?"  he  asked 
in  low  tones,  stepping  to  the  side  of  Gaius. 

"  Yes." 

"  And  my  Hector  is  to  match  the  wrestler 
for  him!  How  strange!  If  he  wins  it  will 
be  a  new  tie  between  us,  indeed!  But  come, 
let  us  to  the  lady." 

"You  will  give  me  time  to  prepare  her?" 
asked  Gaius.  "  She  is  weak  with  trouble." 

Aulus  laid  a  hand  upon  his  arm.  "  My 
friend,  do  you  feel  it  necessary  to  protect 
my  own  sister  from  my  rude  haste?"  The 
toiie  was  full  of  sad  reproach.  But  before 


104 


THE  WEESTLEB  OF  PHILIPPL 


the  other  could  explain  his  caution,  Aulus 
added  quickly,  while  the  tears  flashed  in  his 
eyes:  "But  the  gods  bless  you  for  your 
care  of  her!  I  have  no  words  to  thank 
you." 

They  entered  the  handsome  domus,  and 
the  master  hastened  to  summon  his  wife 
and  acquaint  her  with  the  wondrous  news, 
that  she  might,  in  turn,  prepare  Agistha. 
But  she  laughed  at  him. 

"We  need  no  preparation  for  joy!"  she 
cried  amid  her  rapturous  exclamations  over 
the  good  news.  "  Agistha  has  borne  sorrow 
with  a  staunch  heart.  A  bit  of  prosperity 
and  happiness  will  not  harm  her." 

However,  she  sent  to  summon  Agistha  to 
the  atrium,  saying  she  had  strange  news  for 
her,  but  in  no  wise  concerning  Herklas— 
with  whom  his  wife's  every  thought  was 
woven,  these  trying  days. 

Meanwhile  Aulus  Clotius  and  his  prisoner 
remained  alone,  and  the  former  studied  the 
latter  with  eyes  made  critical  by  new  inter- 
est. 

"  He  looks  forlorn  and  hungry,  poor 
wretch!  but  not  vicious,"  was  his  unspoken 
comment.  "  He  said  he  was  fond  of  her, 
and  seems,  from  the  story,  to  have  inter- 
fered when  she  was  cruelly  used.  We  will 
see." 

With  the  thought  Gaius  entered,  accom- 
panied by  his  wife,  flushed,  excited,  and 
beautiful  in  her  joy. 

"  Your  sister?"  she  cried,  scarcely  waiting 
to  greet  her  guest.  "  I  knew  she  was  of 
gentle  blood;  that  has  proved  itself  in  every 
way!  And  you  "—flashing  about  upon  the 
prisoner—"  are  the  master  she  did  not  fear- 
Alois?" 

He  bowed  humbly. 

"  She  has  told  me  he  tried  to  be  kind  to 
her,"— addressing  Aulus  again—"  but  was 
overruled  too  often  by  his  more  cruel  part- 
ner. Do  you  know  what  has  become  of  him, 
Alois?" 

"  He  is  dead,  madam.  The  galleys  soon 
kill  a  man.  He  will  trouble  us  no  more." 

The  curtains  parted  again  and  a  hesitat- 
ing figure  stood  just  within  them.  The  slen- 
der white  form  in  its  classic  garments  was 
sharply  outlined  against  their  dark  rich- 
ness, and  Aulus  drew  in  his  breath  with  de- 
light as  he  gazed. 

Agistha  turned  to  the  mistress.  "  Harold 
said  you  desired  my  presence  here,  Lady 
^Enone." 

"  Yes,  I— we— Agistha,  do  you  see  who  is 
here?" 


She  looked  and  paled.  "  Alois?"  she  whis- 
pered. "  He  has  come  for  me!" 

"  No,  no,  child!  Be  not  frightened.  Here 
is  another  who  claims  your  notice — the 
noble  Aulus  Clotius,  general  and  prsetor." 

Agistha  turned  to  him  with  a  sweet  smile. 
"  Peace  to  you,  sir!  I  have  met  your  mother, 
and  was  greatly  drawn  to  her,  and  to  the 
noble  Julia." 

"  And  both  to  you,  fair  lady.  I  note  a 
strong  resemblance  between  you  and  my 
mother." 

There  was  a  slight  tremble  in  the  praetor's 
voice,  but  he  commanded  himself  well. 

"  Yes,  it  has  been  observed  upon  before. 
It  flatters  me." 

"  Agistha,"  asked  ^Enone,  who  could  wait 
no  longer,  "  did  you  ever  hear  the  name  of 
Cleone?" 

"  Cleone?"  The  younger  woman  spoke 
the  word  liugeringly  as  if  in  a  dream. 
"  Cleone!  It  suggests  a  noble  court  with 
marble  columns,  and  a  fountain  spraying  in 
the  sunshine.  I  seem  to  see  a  boy  at  play, 
and  a  little — little  girl.  There  is  a  lady  too- 
fair  and  sweet.  Oh!  it  is  like  a  beautiful 
dream  long  since  vanished!" 

Aulus  had  risen.  He  could  no  longer  con- 
trol himself— he  must  tell  her!  Then  he 
sank  back  with  the  thought,  "  No,  it  will 
startle  her.  We  must  come  at  it  gradually," 
and  had  reseated  himself  even  before  he 
perceived  ^Enone's  imperious  gesture  to  that 
effect.  For  the  matron  had  taken  this  affair 
into  her  own  hands. 

"  Agistha,"  she  said  quickly,  "  Alois  has 
told  all  your  story.  You  were  stolen,  when 
a  mere  babe,  by  Flavius  from  a  house — a 
palatial  domus — in  this  very  city.  Your 
name  was  Cleone.  Now  can  you  recall — " 

"  Oh,  it  comes!  it  comes!"  With  the  cry 
Agistha  shut  her  eyes  tightly,  and  clapped 
her  hands  over  her  ears.  "  Wait!  I  remem- 
ber. The  boy— he  took  care  of  me — I  loved 
him.  But  his  name  was  difficult— I  called 
him  Ollie— Ollie!" 

Aulus  gave  a  cry  of  rapture.  "  My  sister! 
My  Cleone!  It  is  true,  and  I  am  Ollie! 
Oh,  my  baby  darling,  dost  not  remember 
me?" 

She  opened  her  eyes  and  gazed  at  him. 
The  veil  of  the  past  seemed  rent  in  twain. 

"  Ollie — brother!"  she  cried,  and  the  two 
sprang  to  each  other's  embrace,  all  barriers 
between  them  forever  removed. 

Even  Alois  wiped  his  eyes.  /Enone  sobbed 
outright. 

"  Send  for  my  mother!"  cried  Aulus  in  a 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPL 


105 


transport  of  happiness,  "or  no,  let  me— let 
us  all  go  to  her.  Alois,  you  are  free  be- 
cause you  had  one  tender  thought  for  my 
beloved  sister;  and  I  will  take  you  into  my 
household  and  give  you  comfort  and  pro- 
tection." 

The  man  let  his  eyes  rest  upon  Agistha. 
"  I  mourned  her  as  dead,"  he  muttered, 
"and  when  I  heard  differently  my  heart 
yearned  over  her.  I  regretted  those  years  of 
oppression  and  wanted  to  do  her  good  in 
some  way  to  atone  for  all.  I  have  learned 
kinder  thoughts  and  manners  from  some 
people  I  have  been  with— they  call  them 
Christians.  I  wished  to  tell  her  this  very 
story  and  help  her  to  recover  her  home. 
Let  me  serve  her,  for  I  am  fond  of  her." 

"  Then  come  with  us,"  said  Aulus  kindly; 
and  Agistha  added: 

"  Yes,  Alois,  come  with  us." 

Gaius  and  ^Enone  would  not  be  left  be- 
hind. The  palace  was  not  far  distant  and 
they  chose  to  walk.  Pamphylia  and  Julia 
sat  at  their  embroidery,  just  a  bit  dull  and 
sleepy,  the  latter  telling  herself  she  was 
glad  that  a  few  days  more  would  usher  in 
the  Games. 

Aulus  hastened  into  their  room  with  a 
quick  tread,  and  a  face  alive  with  varying 
expressions. 

"What!  Sitting  here  alone?"  he  cried 
merrily.  "  There  are  guests  in  the  atrium." 

"And  nobody  announced  them?"  cried 
Julia,  rising. 

"  I  announce  them,  for  I  brought  them. 
Mother,"  his  voice  shook  in  spite  of  him- 
self, "  the  Lady  ^Enone  and  that  fair 
Agistha,  who  resembles  you  and  me,  are 
awaiting  you." 

"  How  kind  of  them  to  thus  return  our 
visit  without  delay!" 

Pamphylia  rose  and  gently  shook  into  eveu 
folds  her  soft,  dove-colored  tunic,  rich  with 
steel  embroidery.  "  Come,  Julia,  we  must 
not  keep  them  waiting." 

"  Mother," — Aulus  drew  her  arm  within 
his  own, — "  have  you  never  thought  we 
might,  sometime,  come  upon  some  trace  of 
our  Cleone?  Does  not  even  this  resemblance 
touch  you  to  wonder?" 

She  stopped  to  peer  into  his  face,  which 
he  tried  to  keep  impassive. 

"  Ah,  Aulus,  I  dare  not  wonder— nor  hope. 
I  have  been  so  often  allured  and  then  de- 
ceived. Leave  me  in  peace." 

"  Yes,  mother,  but  "—they  were  nearing 
the  atrium—"  I  have  heard  a  strange  tale 
about  this  fair  lady." 


Julia  pressed  closer  to  listen,  as  she  fol- 
lowed. 

"  She  is  of  Roman  birth— a  patrician— and 
she  was  stolen  when  three  years  old  from—" 

"  My  son,  why  do  you  torture  me?" 

At  the  cry,  he  swept  aside  a  curtain,  and 
she  stood  in  the  large  reception  chamber. 
Back  at  its  far  end,  beyond  the  impluvium, 
was  a  small  group;  here,  close  at  hand,  was 
one  slender  figure. 

"  Mother!"  it  cried  in  a  small,  pathetic 
voice,  "  mother,  know  you  not  your  little 
Cleone?" 

Pamphylia  looked  and  believed.  The  rest, 
waiting  breathlessly  to  see  her  faint  or  fall, 
had  no  need  for  fears.  JEnone  was  right 
when  she  said  joy  did  not  harm. 

"  It  is  my  child!"  she  said  in  a  strong  tone 
of  deep  conviction,  and  reaching  out  her 
longing,  empty  arms,  she  drew  her  baby  to 
her  breast. 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 
ELIZABETH  IN  DUNGEON  AND  ARENA. 

EUNICE  was  indeed  dying.  The  out- 
door hardships  through  which  she  had 
passed,  though  they  had  weakened  her 
frame,  might  have  been  withstood,  but  the 
dampness  and  gloom  of  the  dungeon  added 
thereto  were  more  than  she  could  endure. 
Her  end  was  near.  Elizabeth,  before  whom 
a  hideous  death  loomed  on  the  morrow,  was 
now  indifferent  to  all  but  her  companion, 
who  lay  against  her  breast  gasping  for 
breath.  Through  the  efforts  of  Cleotas  and 
Hector  a  mattress  had  been  provided  her, 
and  a  small  lamp  burned  feebly  in  the  close 
cell,  while  the  prison  leech  had  just  de- 
parted, the  medicine  he  left  behind  sending 
out  a  strange,  pungent  odor  that  filled  the 
air. 

Junius.  Nadab.  and  Salome  had  been  there 
also,  but  were  permitted  only  a  short  inter- 
view on  account  of  the  sufferer.  Elizabeth's 
good-night  had  been  calm  and  tearless— in- 
deed, all  had  tried  to  subdue  their  feelings 
in  respect  to  the  near  presence  of  death,  and 
had  simply  whispered  lingeringly: 
"  We  will  see  you  again  in  the  morning." 
Elizabeth,  bending  over  the  close  comrade 
and  friend  of  months,  almost  envied  her  the 
natural  death  so  rapidly  approaching,  but 
put  out  of  her  mind  her  own  horrible  ex- 
pectations of  the  morrow,  the  better  to 


106 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PH1L1PP1. 


nurse  and  comfort  the  sick  one.  The  latter 
was  breathing  heavily,  now,  quite  uncon- 
scious, and  it  was  with  difficulty  that  her 
faithful  friend  could  rouse  her  to  receive  a 
portion  of  the  medicine  to  be  given  at 
stated  intervals,  marked  by  the  hour-glass 
the  physician  had  left  on  the  stone  floor  at 
her  side. 

As  Elizabeth  prepared  the  mixture — this 
strange-smelling  powder  stirred  into  thin 
wine — her  hand  trembled  with  weakness, 
and  was  almost  transparent  against  the 
lamplight,  while  her  sweet  face  with  its 
large,  clear  eyes  and  delicate  features 
seemed  cut  from  marble.  In  spite  of  her 
care,  she  spilled  a  considerable  portion  of 
the  powder,  which  lodged  amid  the  folds  of 
her  tunic  and  yellowed  it  slightly  wherever 
it  clung.  But  there  was  enough  left,  she 
was  glad  to  see,  and  gently  raising  the 
sufferer's  head,  she  held  the  shallow 
measure  to  her  lips. 

Too  late!  For  an  instant  the  drooped  eyes 
lifted  surprisedly  as  if  at  some  remarkable 
vision,  then  dropped  back  in  her  head. 
There  was  an  unmistakable  noise  in  the 
wasted  throat,  and  Elizabeth  felt  the  form 
straighten  and  stiffen  in  her  arms.  The  poor 
prisoner— the  blessed  Christian— had  passed 
to  her  reward! 

Elizabeth  laid  her  gently  back  and  looked 
down  upon  her  for  a  long  time,  with  some- 
thing like  a  smile  on  her  lips.  "  To-morrow 
I  will  be  with  thee  in  Paradise!"  she  mur- 
mured, then  pressed  the  tired  lids  softly 
down,  and  gathered  the  worn  robe  decently 
about  her  limbs.  "  Rest,  sweet  soul,  and 
be  forever  with  our  Lord!"  was  her  inner 
benediction,  as  she  at  length  stepped  to  the 
cell  door  and  gave  the  signal  agreed  upon  to 
the  guard  without. 

He  soon  entered.  "  Is  she  gone?"  he 
asked. 

Elizabeth  bowed  her  head,  but  as  he 
stooped  with  rude  haste  to  lift  the  wasted 
figure,  she  added  quickly: 

"Gently,  friend!    She  is  a  woman." 

The  appeal,  so  softly  spoken,  seemed  to 
touch  even  his  calloused  soul.  With  an 
apologetic  mutter  he  controlled  his  hurry  to 
something  like  decorum,  and  calling  another 
guard,  the  two  bore  the  body  out  slowly  and 
with  perfect  decency,  the  one  left  behind 
gazing  after  the  gloomy  little  funeral  train 
through  a  mist  of  tears.  But  Elizabeth  was 
faint  from  weariness  and  lack  of  rest,  and 
soon  that  deep  exhaustion  of  mind  and 
body,  which  seems  so  near  to  utter  extinc- 


tion, gained  possession  of  all  her  senses. 
Sinking  back  upon  the  lately-vacated  mar- 
tress,  she  dropped  into  a  state  partly  sleep, 
partly  insensibility,  and  knew  no  more  till 
the  day  was  come  again. 

It  is  evidently  a  special  day  in  Rome. 
From  earliest  dawn  the  streets  have  been 
teeming  with  the  plebeian  classes  hastening 
to  and  fro  on  busy  errands,  all  tending  to 
one  spot— the  great  amphitheatre  of  Taurus 
in  the  Campus  Martius.  Here  a  group  of 
carpenters,  their  girdles  bristling  with  tools, 
go  chattering  by  to  finish  some  delayed 
work  on  the  safety  rampart  surrounding  the 
arena,  for  it  is  said  these  new  beasts  are 
large  and  powerful;  next  two  tent-makers 
hurry  along,  with  rolls  of  sail-cloth,  great 
needles,  and  waxed  thi'eads,  to  repair  a  rent 
in  the  velarium,  or  roof -awning,  caused  by  a 
sharp  and  sudden  gust  of  wind  last  even- 
ing; then  a  party  of  country  people  in  curi- 
ous garb,  speaking  as  curious  a  dialect,  go 
pounding  by  on  bare  feet  of  horn-like  hard- 
ness, intent  on  what  they  are  soon  to  wit- 
ness; and  in  rapid  procession  follows  a  com- 
pany of  burly,  beetle-browed  men,  almost 
naked,  and  loud  in  talk  and  arrogance,  for 
whom  the  crowd  separates  in  admiring 
curiosity— they  are  gladiators.  Some  mer- 
chants' slaves  come  next,  with  goods  for  the 
booths  which  their  masters  have  had  con- 
structed just  outside  the  amphitheatre,  and 
behind  them  are  three  jockeys  in  gay  attire, 
leading  a  group  of  prancing  horses,  whose 
tufted  heads  show  them  to  be  participants 
in  the  chariot  races  to-day;  while,  crowding 
their  high-stepping  heels  and  exchanging 
jokes  and  laughter  with  the  street-loungers, 
is  a  company  of  mountebanks  leading  a 
tame  and  funny  bear— in  fact,  it  is  easy  to 
see  it  is  circus-day  in  Rome!  Circus-day  for 
the  populace — doomsday  for  the  condemned. 

As  the  hours  advance,  the  crowds  thicken 
and  change.  Amid  the  slaves  and  plebeians 
can  now  be  seen,  often,  the  gay  car  of  a 
party  in  rich  attire,  all  carrying  small  ban- 
ners of  one  color;  or  the  lectica.  of  some 
senator,  sporting  the  ribbons  of  his  favorite 
contestant  in  the  Games,  most  of  them  de- 
noting certain  chariot-drivers,  this  sport 
having  grown  rapidly  in  public  favor  lately. 

There  is  a  flourish  of  trumpets,  the  gleam 
of  a  golden  eagle  held  high,  the  flash  of 
steel  in  the  sunlight,  and  a  cohort  of  the 
royal  guards  sweeps  by,  ready  to  take  its 
place  in  the  Campus  and  preserve  order 
over  the  two  or  threescore  thousands  likely 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PH1LIPPI. 


107 


to  assemble  for  the  day.  Following  these  is 
a  rabble  of  common  people,  mostly  small 
boys  and  slaves,  and  they  make  directly  for 
the  Campus,  intent  on  watching  some  of  the 
military  evolutions  to  follow,  for  this  plain 
has  always  been  used  as  a  parade-ground 
and  sporting-field.  Now,  however,  it  is 
largely  occupied  by  buildings  of  great 
splendor,  their  marble  columns  stretching 
along  the  streets  in  all  directions— baths, 
temples,  theatres,  and  mausoleums— nearly 
all  memorials  to  some  great  man  long  since 
laid  low  in  death.  Facing  some  of  these 
is  the  succession  of  terraces  called  the 
Janiculum,  all  beautiful  with  gardens  and 
stately  homes,  and  considered  the  healthiest 
spot  in  Rome. 

Past  all  this  the  people  pour,  and  finally 
reach  the  immense  oval-shaped  structure 
where  the  Games  are  to  be  held.  As  they 
near  its  vicinity  the  crowds  grow  denser 
and  more  lively,  for  the  sound  of  martial 
music  is  heard,  and  they  know  that  before 
a  great  while  a  fine  flourish  of  trumpets  will 
announce  the  opening  of  the  Games.  They 
no  longer  linger  among  the  columns  of  the 
wide  porticoes,  but  pour  into  the  stone 
building  through  the  many  wide  entrances, 
and  hasten  to  secure  a  ticket  at  the  small 
loggia  where  the  jam  is  thickening,  and 
there  is  a  constant  noise  of  cries,  impre- 
cations, and  laughter.  Once  inside,  the 
breathless  ticket-holder  may  stop  to  glance 
around  him,  for  the  foyer  is  wide  and  com- 
fortable. Standing  in  one  of  the  openings 
between  the  segments  of  seats  he  can  see 
the  great  ellipsis  of  the  arena  walled  in  to 
the  height  of  perhaps  fifteen  feet,  the  broad 
rampart  topped  by  a  bronze  railing  ending 
in  sharp  spikes,  as  a  further  protection 
against  any  sudden  dash  of  some  powerful 
beast,  goaded  to  desperation. 

On  a  line  with  this  wall  is  the  podium,  or 
gallery,  reserved  for  the  favored  aristocratic 
class.  Midway  of  its  oval,  and  close  to  the 
terminal  markings  of  the  course,  is  a 
canopied  enclosure  displaying  the  purple 
and  gold  of  royalty,  with  chairs  on  either 
side  for  the  tribunes,  praetors,  aediles, 
curules,  and  censors,  who  assist  in  the  gov- 
ernment. Opposite  is  a  segment  separated 
from  adjoining  seats  in  which  is  a  pleasing 
flutter  of  white,  and  he  knows  this  vicinity 
is  claimed  by  the  Vestals,  the  only  women 
allowed  outside  the  latticed  gallery  set 
apart  for  them,  three  tiers  further  up,  save 
such  as  may  be  found  in  the  exclusive  space 
reserved  for  the  Emperor. 


The  flow  of  the  people  along  the  prrecinc- 
tiones  has  been  incessant  for  the  last  hour, 
and  the  nimble  locarii,  or  ushers,  have  been 
busy  verifying  the  numbers  on  thoir  tickets 
with  those  on  the  benches  of  the  higher 
galleries  where  the  populace  is  seated;  the 
poor  slaves  being  relegated  to  a  sky  gallery 
close  up  under  the  awning.  Here  the 
velarium  is  now  rolled  back,  and  tugs  at  its 
guy-ropes  like  a  confined  sail,  while  away 
below  mere  is  a  bustle  of  sand-strewing 
over  the  arena,  the  sound  of  a  hammer  driv- 
ing some  loose  bolt  home  in  the  iron  gates 
confining  the  beasts,  and  beneath  all,  like 
the  low  thunder  of  the  surf  before  a  storm, 
rises  the  uneasy  growl  and  grumble  of  these 
savage  creatures  in  their  dens  that  underlie 
the  great  structure. 

The  vast  audience  is  nearly  seated  at  last. 
The  locarii  are  leaning  back  against  the 
curving  walls  to  catch  their  breath;  the 
students  of  the  schools,  accompanied  by 
their  instructors,  have  demurely  taken 
places  under  their  severe  eyes,  only  to 
break  into  mirthful  chatter  later;  the 
velarium  has  been  finally  adjusted  at  the 
proper  angle  to  exclude  the  sun  and  admit 
the  air,  and  the  people  are  telling  each  other 
it  must  be  nearly  time,  for  the  editor  has 
just  taken  his  raised  seat  ready  to  conduct 
the  programme,  when  there  is  one  clear, 
long-drawn  trumpet  note,  then  a  great 
clarion  blare  that  may  be  heard  far  over 
Rome— the  Games  are  begun! 

One  last  quick  rush  of  the  inevitably  late, 
and  the  doors  are  closed.  The  editor  rises 
and  salutes  the  Emperor— who  politely  re- 
sponds—then turns  with  a  gesture  towards 
the  end  of  the  ellipse,  and  through  the  sud- 
denly-opened gates  pours  a  great  procession 
made  up  of  all  the  participants  of  the  day- 
poets,  musicians,  wrestlers,  net-throwers, 
leapers,  runners,  tumblers,  athletes,  armed 
fighters,  riders,  chariot  racers,  a  train  of 
tame  elephants  and  other  beasts,  and  lastly 
a  long,  pathetic,  slow-moving  line  of  doomed 
captives,  many  from  far  countries,  who,  not 
understanding  a  word  that  is  spoken,  only 
realize  in  their  trembling  isolation  that 
something  terrible  is  about  to  happen, 
from  which  there  is  no  possible  way  of 
escape. 

Through  the  kindness  of  Gaius  and  Aulus, 
both  of  whom  are  in  the  podium.  Junius 
and  Nadab  are  well  seated  in  the  first  row 
of  the  second  mspniana,  and  now  with  eyes 
dulled  by  weeping,  and  faces  drawn  with 
grief,  they  watch  for  a  last  glimpse  of  their 


108 


THE  WEESTLEE  OF  PHILIPP1. 


loved  one  amid  this  glittering  show  of  man 
and  beast.  The  women  have  all  remained 
at  home— Salome,  face  downwards  on  her 
couch,  in  bitter  weeping;  Agistha  (now 
Cleone)  with  her  new-found  mother  and  sis- 
ter, sometimes  walking  wildly  to  and  fro, 
sometimes  dropping  to  her  knees  in  earnest 
prayer;  while  Pamphylia  fondles  the  laugh- 
ing baby,  Gaius,  and  feels  that  he  is  more 
nearly  like  the  child  she  long  ago  lost  than 
is  this  distracted  wife,  who  can  find  no 
solace  outside  her  religion. 

The  procession  has  but  half  circled  the 
arena  when  Nadab  touches  his  father's  arm. 

"  Is  not  that  Hector,  the  centurion?  See — 
amid  that  group  of  gladiators  with  the 
bronze  headgear!" 

Junius  nods  half  obliviously,  for  his  eyes 
strain  onward  to  the  less  showy  ending  of 
the  motley,  serpent-like  string,  and  pres- 
ently he  utters  a  stifled  sound,  between  a 
sob  and  a  groan — there  is  Elizabeth!  She  is 
pacing  slowly  in  her  flowing  white  robe, 
her  hands  clasped  lightly  before  her,  and 
her  eyes  down-dropped.  She  seems  almost 
to  float,  so  light  is  her  movement,  and  there 
is  such  an  absence  of  all  emotion — even  ex- 
pression—in the  still  figure  that  one  might 
think  each  step  involuntary;  that  she  was 
walking  in  her  sleep. 

At  length  the  long  train  has  made  the 
entire  circuit,  and  passes  out  of  sight,  to  be 
replaced  by  a  band  of  discus  throwers,  who 
have  a  lively,  innocent  game,  preliminary 
to  the  more  blood-curdling  scenes  to  follow. 

It  was  nearing  noon,  and  the  people  were 
growing  weary  with  the  heat  and  long  sit- 
ting, when,  to  whet  their  somewhat  jaded 
appetites,  it  was  announced  that  the  beasts 
would  now  appear.  Junius  at  once  stiffened 
into  an  immovable  quiet.  Nadab  moaned 
and  hid  his  eyes.  But  Cleotas  whispered 
presently: 

"  Not  yet,  friends.  These  are  men,  and 
each  has  a  short,  two-edged  sword  to  fight 
the  monsters  with.  There  are  our  Chris- 
tian friends  and  many  more — but  no 
women." 

It  was  a  short  but  bloody  spectacle,  and 
Nadab,  sickened  and  faint,  leaned  heavily 
against  Cleotas,  whose  face  was  gray  with 
sympathy.  When  the  dead  had  been  re- 
moved with  long  grappling-hooks,  and  fresh 
sand  sprinkled  over  the  stains,  there  was  an 
instant's  pause.  Then  from  one  of  the  doors 
entered  a  single  figure  in  simple  white,  the 
dark  hair  banded  neatly  in  place,  the  hands 
softly  clasped,  the  eyes  upraised  as  if  in 


prayer.  Junius  and  Nadab  saw  her  as 
through  a  haze  of  blood,  yet  presently  their 
eyes  cleared,  and  their  tortured  nerves  grew 
still.  Something  in  her  gracious  presence 
seemed  to  rebuke  their  horror. 

She  advanced  slowly,  but  with  perfect 
dignity,  and  apparently  without  fear, 
though  four  fierce  leopards,  just  released 
from  their  barriers,  were  slipping  and  snarl- 
ing around  the  wide  space  in  which  she 
stood.  Junius,  thinking  he  could  not  endure 
the  sight  which  must  follow,  yet  felt  his 
eyes  glued  to  that  strangely  solemn  figure, 
and  Nadab,  moaning,  crouched  and  looked, 
and  murmured : 

"  God  will  save  her  yet!" 

Elizabeth  appeared  to  see  and  hear  noth- 
ing. All  her  thoughts  followed  her  eyes'  up- 
lifted gaze — her  soul  was  with  her  Lord. 
For  the  moment  an  ecstasy  of  faith,  of  love, 
of  perfect  surrender,  possessed  her  whole 
being,  and  she  felt  the  protecting  arms  of 
Christ  about  her. 

The  feverish  chatter  and  rustle  of  the 
great  audience  grew  still  as  she  came  slowly 
to  the  center,  for  something  in  her  presence 
awed  them — and  besides,  what  ailed  the 
beasts?  Still  crouching,  still  creeping,  as  if 
to  spring,  they  came,  but  halted  when  a 
short  distance  from  her,  then  turned  and 
sped  away  like  whipped  curs,  growling  and 
protesting  as  they  fled,  and,  stopping  in  a 
huddled  group,  gazed  at  her  with  red,  angry 
orbs,  sniffing  the  air  discontentedly,  and 
lashing  their  tails  against  their  spotted 
sides. 

Elizabeth,  now  in  the  center  of  the  great 
oval,  stopped  and  dropped  slowly  to  her 
knees.  She  had  had  an  instant  of  full  con- 
sciousness, and  realized  that  danger  was 
near.  She  would  meet  it  as  she  had  met  her 
arrest— in  the  attitude  of  supplication.  Now 
was  the  time  for  the  beasts  to  spring — why 
did  they  not? 

The  amphitheatre  was  as  still  as  death, 
and  every  eye  was  fixed  on  that  one  slen- 
der Christian  woman,  who  in  heavenly  con- 
templation seemed  lost  to  all  the  world, 
and  on  those  four  wild  beasts  edging  timidly 
away  without  offering  to  devour  her,  except 
with  their  greedy  eyes.  Suddenly  Nadab 
sprang  wildly  up. 

"  A  miracle!"  he  shouted.  "  God  has  saved 
her!  The  leopards  dare  not  kill  her!"  and 
then  fell  back  in  a  paroxysm  of  hysterical 
weeping. 

The  cry  was  caught  up — the  excitement 
spread. 


THE   WEESTLEE  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


1C9 


"A  mivacle!  A  miracle!"  yelled  the 
changeable  populace,  wild  with  tins  strange 
new  excitement  of  mercy,  so  uncommon  and 
so  delightful.  "  She  is  pure!  She  is  inno- 
cent! The  gods  Drotect  her!"  And  four 
times  ten  thousand  upturned  thumbs  begged 
for  the  captive's  life. 

Nero,  feeling  the  cold  chills  of  awed 
amazement  run  down  his  spine,  was  glad  to 
grant  the  favor,  and  his  imperial  nod  re- 
voked her  death  sentence.  Amid  a  tumult 
that  rent  the  air  with  shouts  and  set  it  all 
a-flutter  with  waving  handkerchiefs  and 
girdles,  Elizabeth,  still  in  a  half  daze,  was 
led  from  the  arena,  free  from  all  further 
persecution— and  the  Games  went  on. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

TRIUMPH  THROUGH  FAITH. 

THE  noon  recess  was  over,  and  the 
audience,  rested  by  the  movement  and 
the  meal,  which  many  took  in  the 
building,  was  ready  for  fresh  horrors.  Nero 
was  now  accompanied  by  Poppoea  and  one 
or  two  ladies-in-waiting,  and  Cleotas  had  re- 
turned to  his  place,  leaving  Junius  and 
Nadab  with  their  restored  Elizabeth, 
scarcely  yet  believing  in  their  great  relief. 
Salome  also,  seeing  that  the  reunited  could 
well  spare  her,  had  come  with  her  husband 
to  be  a  fearful  witness,  behind  the  women's 
gilded  grating,  of  her  brother's  combat  with 
the  blustering  Anisarchus.  Gaius  and  Aulus 
were  in  their  places,  and  Julia  was  with"  the 
party  in  the  royal  box.  There  was  unusual 
interest  in  this  event,  not  only  for  them,  but 
many  more.  The  singular  compact  between 
the  Emperor  and  the  centurion  had  been 
noised  abroad,  and  all  knew  what  royal  in- 
terest and  princely  wagers  depended  upon 
it.  Few  remembered  the  humble  Christian 
whose  life  hung  in  the  balance,  nor  gave  a 
thought  to  the  anxieties  which  must  over- 
whelm him  in  his  cell. 

But,  in  reality,  Herklas  was  sustained  as 
Elizabeth  had  been.  He  had  long  since 
given  himself  to  Christ,  not  for  prosperity 
and  peace  only— not  for  quiet  days  and  rest- 
ful nights— but  for  adversity;  for  old  age 
and  weakness,  if  they  were  to  be  his  por- 
tion; for  death  in  the  prime  of  manhood,  if 
such  was  the  Lord's  will.  All  he  asked  was 
to  be  able  in  some  way  to  testify  of  Him. 
The  flesh  truly  was  weak,  and  shrank  at 


times  from  the  brutality  and  shame  of  such 
a  death  in  public;  but  the  spirit  was  sub- 
missive and  ready.  If  this  soldier  who  had 
so  oddly  assumed  his  place  succeeded,  he 
must  expect  a  degrading  servitude;  if  he 
failed,  he  must  take  his  place  in  the  arena 
to  be  easily  disposed  of  by  the  powerful 
Anisarchus.  The  details  had  been  given 
him  by  the  jailer,  with  many  an  oath  and 
chuckle,  and  in  either  case  his  future  did 
not  promise  much  that  was  desirable.  Yet 
Herklas  "  rested  in  the  Lord  and  was  glad." 

It  was  about  the  eighth  hour  when  the 
wrestlers  appeared.  There  were  several 
pairs,  but  Anisarchus  and  Hector  absorbed 
the  interest  and  led  the  little  procession,  as 
in  the  customary  manner  they  advanced  to 
the  royal  box  and  gave  their  strangely 
touching  salutation: 

"  Ave  Imperator,  morituri  te  salutant." 
(Hail,  Emperor!  they  who  are  about  to  die 
salute  thee.) 

Then  each  pair  took  the  prescribed  po- 
sition— right  foot  projected,  knees  slightly 
bent  outward,  arms  and  chest  extended, 
body  supple  and  alert.  The  handkerchief 
fluttered  down  as  a  signal,  and  the  clutch- 
ing, writhing,  swaying,  twisting,  and  bend- 
ing began,  the  audience  sitting  almost  mo- 
tionless in  its  interest  over  the  intertwisted 
forms. 

It  was  quickly  seen  that  Hector,  if  slightly 
the  smaller",  was  the  more  ready  and  quick, 
but  few  among  those  thousands  understood 
whence  came  the  wondrous  strength  and 
skill,  the  readiness  to  parry,  the  assurance 
in  attack,  that  he  soon  developed;  for  he, 
like  David  of  old,  was  "  contending  in  the 
strength  of  the  Lord,"— wrestling  bodily  for 
his  brother's  life,  as  he  had  long  been  wrest- 
ling, spiritually,  with  the  powers  of  evil  for 
his  own  soul. 

The  contest  had  proceeded  but  a  short 
time  when  there  was  a  yell  of  triumph,  led 
by  Nero— Anisarchus  was  down!  But  only 
for  an  instant.  Regaining  his  footing  after 
a  bitter  struggle  of  a  few  seconds,  he 
seemed  roused  to  fury  by  the  disgrace,  and 
for  a  while  showed  a  strength  which  seemed 
invincible.  Indeed,  it  was  plainly  observable 
that  Hector  had  all  he  could  possibly  do  to 
hold  his  own  against  him. 

But  the  Olympic  trick  was  swift  and  sure, 
and  Anisarchus  in  his  mad  rage  was  not 
prepared  for  it.  While  he  relied  on  his 
superior  strength  to  down  his  opponent,  he 
had  not  taken  into  account  the  watchful 
alertness  that  Hector  had  never  lost  for  an 


110 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


instant,  and  just  as  he  was  ready  to  shout 
his  triumphant  "I  have  him!"  feeling  the 
sinewy  figure  of  the  Greek  give  way  before 
him— neither  he  nor  any  one  else  knew  just 


Hector,  kneeling  above  him,  looked  anxiously  for  the  up- 
turned-thumb signals  of  mercy. 


what  happened,  but  something  quick  and 
sinuous  as  a  serpent's  spring  gave  his  left 
ankle  a  twist  that  caused  a  second's  hot 
agony,  and  he  fell  so  heavily  that  he  lay 
still,  utterly  unconscious  for  the  time  being. 
Amid  the  roars  of  applause  Hector,  kneel- 


ing  above   him,    looked    anxiously   for   the 
upturned-thumb    signals    of    mercy,    having 
no  desire  for  the  death  of  his  opponent;  but 
instead  down  went  the  clenched  fists  that 
doomed,     and     instantly     the 
cruel   grappling-hooks  dragged 
out  the  unconscious  wrestler — 
no  longer  champion  of  Rome. 

Then  Hector,  proud  only  in 
a  strength  not  his  own,  glad 
only  because  of  his  brother, 
marched  with  stately  tread 
around  the  arena  with  the  four 
other  victors,  to  receive  the 
plaudits  of  the  multitude,  and 
as  he  bent  low  beneath  the  im- 
perial party,  Poppoea  caught 
from  her  white  wrist  a  blazing 
jewel  and  tossed  it,  with  the 
cry: 

"  For  Hector,  victorious!" 
But  a  bunch  of  roses  flung  at 
the  same  moment  from  the  fair 
hand  of  Julia,  his  patroness, 
was  to  the  man  so  newly  born 
to  better  things  a  more  wel- 
come guerdon,  for  it  meant  the 
purest  friendship. 

The  day  was  ended,  and  the 
sun  had  set  in  deepest  crimson, 
giving   promise   of   a   fair   to- 
morrow.     Salome,    thankful 
over     Hector's     victory,     mar- 
veling over  Elizabeth's  es- 
cape,    was     crossing     the 
court  to  seek   Nadab  and 
inquire    how    his    mother 
was  resting — for,  with  her 
hand    clasped    in    that    of 
her    husband,    the    weary 
martyr  had  been  sleeping 
some  time — when  she  saw 
the  youth  crossing  to  her. 
A   robe   of  white,    stained 
and    soiled,    was    thrown 
over  his  arm. 

"  It  is  mother's,"  he 
whispered,  "  and  should 
be  cleansed  at  once.  It  is 
tainted  with  the  prison 
odor." 

"  Prison  odor!"  exclaimed  Salome,  notic- 
ing immediately  the  strangely  pungent  scent 
clinging  to  its  folds.  "  No,  that  is  some- 
thing more.  How  singular  it  is!  Not  ex- 
actly disagreeable,  but  exceedingly  penetrat- 
ing. It  makes  me  almost  dizzy." 


THE   WRESTLER  OF  PHI  LI  PPL 


111 


She  took  the  garment  from  him  and  fol- 
lowed the  court  to  the  rear,  where  she 
sought  the  lavatory,  presided  over  by  a  tall, 
dusky  slave  from  Africa.  The  powerful 
woman  had  no  sooner  taken  the  soiled  robe 
from  her  mistress  than  she  started  a  little, 
then  sniffed  at  it  inquiringly. 

A  moment  later  she  discovered  the  pale 
yellow  stains  of  the  powder  spilled  by 
Elizabeth  the  night  before,  when  minister- 
ing to  her  dying  companion,  and  looked  up 
with  a  smile  that  displayed  all  her  strong 
teeth  in  their  perfection. 

"Ah,  ha!  Leopard' s-bane!"  she  cried. 
"  This  powder  comes  from  a  plant  in  my 
native  land.  It  grows  in  our  jungles,  and 
all  leopards  shun  and  fear  it  as  they  do  the 
great  cobra  that  crushes  them.  They  know 
its  odor,  and  go  far  around  rather  than 
trample  upon  the  plant.  Whose  robe  is 
this?" 

Salome's  eyes  widened.  She  had,  with 
simple  credulity,  fully  believed  in  the 
miraculous  interposition  of  God  to  save  her 
friend,  and  for  a  minute  felt  deeply  disap- 
pointed. 

As  usual  in  perplexity,  or  trouble,  she 
hastened  to  Cleotas,  who  was  resting  on  a 
divan  after  his  long  and  exciting  day, 
and  told  him,  with  deep  regret,  of  her  dis- 
covery. 

"  It  was  no  miracle,  you  see,"  she  ended 
dejectedly. 

Cleotas  was  wiser  and  only  smiled.  "  But 
what  is  a  miracle,  my  Salome?  Simply  some 
happening  which  transcends  our  powers  of 
comprehension.  Nothing  is  miraculous  to 
the  Almighty,  and  He  works  always  through 
His  own  laws,  only  a  few  of  which  are  in- 
telligible to  us.  This  event  will  always  be 
a  miracle  to  the  Roman  populace,  who  do 
not  understand,  though  you  and  I  have  dis- 
covered its  simple  relation  to  a  natural  law. 
You  like  to  think  our  Christ  interposed  to 
save  Elizabeth,  and  so  He  did.  Is  it  any 
the  less  His  doing  because  He  chose  to  work 
it  out  by  natural  means?  Sometime,  per- 
haps, my  wife,  we  shall  understand  still 
more  of  these  wondrous  workings  of  the 
Divine  mind,  and  there  will  be  no  more 
miracles.  But  all  the  same,  God  saved  our 
friend  to-day." 

So  Salome  was  comforted. 

While  she  sat  leaning  against  her  husband 
in  the  soft  twilight  a  servant  entered  to 
announce  guests,  and  the  two  hastened  to 
the  atrium  to  meet  Aulus  Clotius  and  Gaius. 
Their  manner  was  marked  by  suppressed 


excitement,  and  as  Aulus  requested  the  hus- 
band and  wife  to  return  with  him  to  his 
palace,  there  to  meet  some  old  friends,  the 
eyes  of  both  rested  upon  Salome  with  much 
seeming  interest. 

"  Is  Hector  there?"  she  asked.  "  I  have 
thought  it  so  strange  that  he  did  not  come 
to  talk  over  his  great  victory  with  us.  Was 
it  not  grand!  And  how  modestly  he  re- 
ceived the  plaudits,  and  the  gift  of  the  em- 
press! My  whole  being  thrilled  with  pride 
as  I  watched  him!" 

"  Hector  is  a  wonderful  man."  returned 
Aulus  with  deep  conviction.  "  He  has  a 
greater  heart  than  even  you  have  recog- 
nized. But  come;  he  waits,  with  other 
friends,  to  greet  you." 

Salome  sent  a  servant  to  excuse  Cleotas 
and  herself  to  their  guests  for  a  short  time, 
and  the  four  entered  the  man-car  awaiting 
them  outside,  horse  vehicles  not  being 
allowed  upon  the  narrow  streets  after  sun- 
down. 

As  they  ueared  the  palace  among  the 
royal  mansions  on  the  magnificent  Palatine 
Hill,  Salome  began  to  catch  something  of 
the  excitement  with  which  the  air  seemed 
vibrating  around  her.  Who  were  these  old 
friends?  Whence  had  they  come,  and  why 
had  Hector  so  persistently  absented  himself 
since  the  close  of  the  spectacles?  Scarcely 
a  thought  did  she  give  to  the  man  whom 
Hector  had  saved  that  he  might  possess  him 
as  a  slave— as  all  believed. 

They  dismounted  at  the  guarded  door  in 
the  street  wall,  and  Aulus  led  them  rapidly 
past  the  porter,  with  his  dog,  across  the 
ostium,  and  through  the  atrium,  to  an  inner 
room  opening  upon  the  peristyle,  and  conse- 
crated to  family  use. 

It  was  well  lighted  with  many  brazen 
lamps  of  quaint  shapes  suspended  from  the 
ceiling,  and  seemed  quite  full  of  people. 
The  ladies,  Pamphylia  and  Julia,  came 
quickly  forward,  followed  by  Agistha, 
whose  strange  story  Salome  knew.  But  she 
hardly  recognized  the  pale,  sad  lady  of  that 
day  at  the  Three  Taverns  in  this  radiant 
creature  with  great,  brilliant  eyes,  flushed 
cheeks,  and  smiling  lips.  What  could  it 
mean?  Was  not  her  husband  one  of  those 
doomed  to  deaia  as  a  Christian  martyr? 
Could  it  be  he  had  escaped? 

Hector  advanced  to  take  his  sister's  hand, 
and  drew  her  towards  a  wasted  but  happy- 
faced  figure  half  reclining  on  a  divan.  The 
barber  and  the  bath  had  made  a  great 
change  in  the  appearance  of  Herklas.  With 


112 


THE  WRESTLER  OF  PHILIPPL 


tiie  removal  of  his  beard  youth  seemed  to 
have  returned  to  his  face. 

Salome  looked,  and  stopped— still  gazed, 
and  faltered  forwards,  with  a  faint  cry: 

"Hector,  who — oh!  is  it — can  it  be — Herk- 
las!" 

The  last  cry  was  one  of  certainty,  and  she 
flew  to  his  arms  as  he  rose  to  greet  her. 

Then  followed  a  scene  almost  indescrib- 
able. Everyone  tried  to  explain,  and  tell  the 
many-sided  story,  and  in  a  whirl  of  wonder 
and  delight  Salome  was  clasped  by  Agistha, 
who  called  her  "  sister,"  and  surrounded  by 
the  ladies  of  the  house,  who  claimed  her  as 
one  of  the  noble  family  through  marriage. 

"  For  you  see,"  called  out  Aulus  above  the 
din,  "  Herklas  being  my  brother-in-law,  you 
and  our  brave  Hector  are  also  my  sister 
and  brother,  while  my  dear  mother  would 
claim  each  and  all  of  us  as  her  very  own." 

It  was  an  evening  of  unalloyed  delight, 
following  a  day  of  fears  and  expectations 
terrible  to  bear.  But  we  may  not  linger 
longer  with  the  reunited.  One  word  as  to 
their  future,  though. 

There  is  a  certain  portion  of  southern 
France  most  delightful  as  to  scenery  and 
climate,  the  name  of  which  proves  its 
Roman  derivation.  Laved  by  the  soft 
waters  of  the  Mediterranean  and  guarded 


by  the  Alps,  its  climate  is  ideal  and  the 
vine  flourishes  the  year  round.  It  is  a 
Roman  province,  boasting  excellent  roads, 
fine  buildings,  and  a  certain  degree  of  civi- 
lization. Here,  in  time,  our  families  gath- 
ered, Aulus  Clotius  as  the  reigning  Procon- 
sul, with  the  honorary  title  of  Legati  Caesar, 
and  almost  unlimited  power  over  the  lands 
and  subjects  about  him. 

Hector  was  at  once  appointed  by  him 
chief  of  the  military  forces,  Cleotas  first 
magistrate,  and  Herklas  elder  and  governor 
of  the  first  Christian  church  there  estab- 
lished. 

Junius  was  given  an  excellent  civic  office, 
and  Nadab  was  delighted  with  the  gift  of  a 
farm;  and  here,  far  from  the  restlessness 
of  Roman  life  at  the  Capital,  they  lived  in 
peace  and  comfort,  loving  and  serving  God 
in  Christ,  doing  good  to  man  as  they  found 
opportunity,  and  leaving  their  humanizing 
impress  upon  the  ruder  folk  about  them. 

Thus  they  escaped  the  terrible  burning  of 
Rome,  about  three  years  later,  and  the  fiery 
persecutions  for  which  it  served  as  cause, 
through  which  Paul,  a  stately  figure  and 
dauntless  spirit,  lived,  wrote,  and  waited  on 
the  Lord  until  his  triumphal  martyrdom, 
fearing  no  man,  because  "  One  was  his  Mas- 
ter, even  Christ." 


A     000  124  175     1 


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